


The Implant Variable

by ShippingLikeAPackage



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Gen, Group A Maze, Group B, Group B Maze, ICERS, Maze Trials, Rachel Group B, Shades, tmr - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-04-24 00:56:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14344590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShippingLikeAPackage/pseuds/ShippingLikeAPackage
Summary: Group B escaped the Maze 3 days faster and lost less people than Group A. But did all of them truly escape?





	1. Prologue

_Are you sure you know the words?_

Aris skidded to a stop, his skates sending little ice shavings flying into the air as he glided around to face her. It was amazing how quickly the two of them had both picked up skating so naturally, given their mere few days in the Spring.

Nearly glaring at her now, he spoke out loud in reply. "I'm not an idiot, Rach. Yes, I'm perfectly capable of remembering-"

A bloodcurdling screech from above made both of them go rigid, a terrifying reminder that there were more important things than bickering at the moment. That their friends were out there, risking their lives holding the Shades back with nothing but spears, all so the two of them could get into The Hole and end the monsters' reign once and for all.

"Hurry!!" Rachel emphasized, whirling back towards the entrance to The Hole and away from her closest friend, ready to attempt to hold off one of the creatures should it pursue them down here.

Aris glided over to the computer console as fast as he could, digging the jagged fronts of his skates into the ice for some stability as he feverishly jabbed in the code he and Rachel had discovered from the maze's patterns.

F-L-O-A-T, C-A-T-C-H, B-L-E-E-D, D-E-A-T-H, S-T-I-F-F. That's all the machine would take, no space for the last four letters.

_It won't let me type the last word!_  He called out to Rachel mentally, clearing the screen and typing it all again in case he'd done something wrong. But the second attempt yielded the same results: four letters short.

Rachel ditched her spot and skated over to Aris with such a force that her momentum almost drove her into the wall. Her eyes flickering around for an answer, the girl let out a puff of cloudy breath into the cold and stale air, muttering. "Push, Push THIS." She crouched and slammed the heel of her hand into a red button underneath the screen and by the floor that was labeled 'KILL THE MAZE.' A howl from behind them cut off abruptly as a Shade crashed into the ground, having been plucked out of mid-air by the sudden deactivation. It lay limp, not so much as a twitch of the wings of movement.  _Where are the others?_  The girl asked, looking over at Aris with her lips pressed flat in concern.

Before he could even respond, as if to answer her question, another body fell onto to turned-off monster with an "OOF!" Aris and Rachel's heads both instinctively snapped in that direction, where Miyoko was jerking her leg upward in attempt to free her foot; one of the blades of her skates had pierced the Shade's skin and wedged itself into its flesh. Finally ripping it free, albeit with some residual Shade-guts still on the silver metal blade, the blonde girl scrunched her nose. "Nasty," she muttered to herself, before sliding off of the creature and finding her footing on the ice once more.

"Miyoko!" Rachel shouted, filled with relief. "Are you okay? What about everybody else?"

The girl didn't answer at first, but rather looked up the tunnel she'd fallen down and cupped her hands around her mouth in attempt to call out to her best friend. "Sonya! There's a dead Shade down here; don't get your skates stuck like I did!"

As if on cue, the blonde haired girl came plummeting down next, her fishtail braid whipping over her face as she landed equally as ungraceful as Miyoko had. "It's a mess up there," the dark haired girl finally addressed Rachel, heaving deep breaths now that the adrenaline had worn off some. "I can't believe it actually worked." Sonya rolled off the Shade's leathery skin, making way for Alejandra to land on it next, then the rest of the surviving girls, followed up in the rear by Harriet, who'd taken up the leadership position of the Icers ever since Ximena was killed by a Shade during their first attempt at escape.

"The rest?" Rachel asked, almost fearing the answer when nobody came down The Hole after Harriet.

"A third of us," Sonya said, her voice weak. "Dead."

It was too many. Far too many. But at least they didn't lose more, and what was done was done.

"You know what?" Harriet spoke, clapping Sonya on the shoulder. "A third of us may have died, but two thirds of us sticks lived. So let's get the hell outta here."

Rachel pointed down a long and dark corridor, contributing to the conversation. "I heard the door open down that way."

"Well- let's go." Harriet said stoically, before gliding on her skates in the direction Rachel pointed, and disappearing as quickly as their visible breaths dissipated into the air. Sonya started ushering the other girls down to follow, and one-by-one they did so until only she, Aris, and Rachel were left.

"I'll go last," Rachel offered, and nobody complained. After a short period of silence, they heard a girl shriek up ahead, and then another, and another. Dread flushed over Rachel's face, as she slowed to a stop and bumped into Aris in front of her.

"It ends in a slide up there, shooting downward." He passed along the message that had been buzzing between the Icers that hadn't fallen yet, before swallowing the fear bubbling in his own throat.  _Guess we have no choice,_  he said to her mind.

_Guess not._  She replied, and the rest of the girls continued forward once more, the scraping of their stakes on the ice and shrieks from being swept down the slope echoing off the dark caverns' walls ominously. Her own body slipped down last, the curly-haired girl's legs being knocked out from beneath her as she plummeted.

The slide was- _oh-so shockingly_ \- slippery, iced-over, and bitingly cold. Rachel's fingers stung as she pushed to get her feet back on the ground and stand again after reaching the bottom. The other girls were collecting themselves as well, helping each other up and coughing from the wind being knocked out of them. The air was even colder down here than it was in the Spring, and that was saying something. It was mildewy too; all around not a pleasant atmosphere to be breathing in.

"What now?" Aris asked, tugging his thick jacket closer to his body for additional warmth. The chill was uncomfortably sinister in this room.

Rachel shrugged, her mouth agape as she honestly had no answer. Even though everyone knew she'd been associated with the Creators before being sent up into the Spring, they still swiped her memory as well. She had no clue where to go from here.

A harsh, alarm-like beeping filled the room, followed by one of the doors to the room sweeping open and two figures emerging from it.

One was a woman, probably in her 40s, if Rachel even remembered what adults looked like correctly. She was dressed for the elements as the rest of them were, except all of her snow gear was pristine, as if she'd just bought it. The Icers' were covered in dirt and blood and probably tears. Her puffy jacket was blindingly white, with a logo on the breast- WCKD spelled in blue capital letters. Her pants and boots were a stark black, glistening in their cleanliness. The other figure stood with its fuzzy hood pulled up over their head, concealing their face in the shadow completely due to the already-dim room. The thick clothing made it impossible to make out their figure as well, and Rachel let it go when the business woman started talking.

"Welcome back," she greeted in the driest way possible, as if not actually welcoming at all. "Over two years and so few dead. Amazing."

" _Excuse me?_ " Sonya interjected, her hands on her hips at the woman's incredulous statement. Yet the older woman pressed forward without so much as acknowledging the younger blonde's existence.

"Everything has gone according to plan, although we expected a few more of you to give up along the way." She reached over and practically ripped the hood off of the shadowed figures' head, revealing the girl's long brown hair to cascade down as it typically did. She looked up, and looked broken, in pain, tears glistening her eyes. All of the Icers drew in a unanimous sharp inhale of surprise, the color completely draining from Rachel's face as she recognized who that was.

Beth.

Rachel's breathing quickened, the blood flushing back to her cheeks all at once in a flash of anger and surprise and raw emotion.

_Beth._

The girl who'd hated Rachel since the moment she arrived at the Spring, who treated her like she was the spawn of Shade herself.

"What's  _she_  doing here?!" Miyoko shouted, throwing her hands forward. They'd all taken Beth for dead for days now.

Sonya furrowed her eyebrows, tucking a flyaway hair behind her ear as she tilted her head to the side. "Beth," she said softly. "What's going on?"

It was then that Rachel noticed it too; something was off about the strong girl. More than there ever had been before.

The brown haired girl's eyes flared for a moment, almost struggling, but she didn't respond. Her whole body trembled, almost convulsing in a very... unnatural manner.

"There is, of course, one final Variable," the older woman spoke again, sidestepping as if to get out of Beth's way. The ex-Icer shuddered, sweat dripping off her forehead despite the fact it was definitely below freezing in the room. Her eyes bulged and were pink around the edges: she really did not look alright at all.

"...Beth?" Rachel asked, suppressing her supreme dislike of the girl.

Beth burst out her speech, hurrying the words as if they could be taken away from her at any moment. "They...!! T-They can control me, I don't-!" Her eyes rolled back into her head, the girl gargling as she struggled to breathe. "I...!"

It was horrifying, really, and yet none of the girls could look away. In one fluid motion, Beth reached into her back pocket and withdrew something long and silver, glinting in the minimal light that the room provided. She gripped it so tightly her knuckles went white. And then, making direct eye contact, she hurled it, the blade slicing through the air as it rotated in almost slow motion, directly at-

"RACHEL!" Aris screamed, before it sunk into the girl's chest, making her collapse to the floor almost instantly. The only boy of the group already had tears in his eyes as he gripped the hilt that was protruding from her chest, before remembering that removing lodged items only made it worse. "You're going to be okay," he muttered, the other girls already surrounding Rachel as well in heavy concern. "Everything's going to be okay."

Rachel's vision was growing blurrier by the second, and she heard shouting and felt someone rip Aris's body away from hers.

And then it was all black.


	2. Containment

 

            It was pitch black when she woke up.

Or had she woken up? Rachel couldn't tell if her eyes actually were open at all, because she honestly couldn't see a thing. Not even her hands, which she discovered after having moved them in front of her face. Her breaths were shallow as well, she could hear that: they were hasty and short and choppy.

But she was alive.

Rubbing her eyes roughly, the girl was startled to feel the skin-on-skin contact it provided, meaning she was no longer wearing her favorite pair of gloves (which had ripped and become hole-ridden in the final fight anyways). Opening her eyes once more she still saw only darkness, so Rachel relied on her other senses to do some detective work instead. Patting herself down, she felt foreign clothing on her body; she wasn't wearing the thick winter gear required for daily life in the Spring any longer. She didn't exactly know  _what_  she was wearing, but from her assessment, she deduced the pants were shorts, stopping at the knee, and the shirt's sleeves went halfway up her forearms. There was also something... Odd around the waist of her pants, some sort of bulky and awkward belt. Despite all this she'd never felt so naked before, in this clothing that seemed so thin to her. All she'd ever known was heavy undergarments, shrouded by layers upon layers of clothing for warmth and protection. And now here she was, in a normal outfit. How disorienting.

Breathing as evenly as she could, the dark skinned girl began to stand, or at least, what she thought was standing. Not being able to see your feet or the ground made it very difficult to figure out which way was up.

Reaching out with her right hand for something to grab for stability, she struck a wall, which would be important to keep touching to find her way out of here. So, she let her palm fall flush against the cool presumably-concrete, and reached out with her left hand now too. And in doing so, surprisingly, she once again found nothing to grab, only a cool flat surface. Another wall.

A tight space. She was in a very narrow, constricted area, with nowhere really to go. It was like The Box all over again. Only much smaller.

Panic began to set in within as reality dawned upon her. She was in a pitch-black, tiny room, in foreign clothes, and alone. ALONE.

 _Aris?!_  She called out to him in her mind, but deep down inside knew he wouldn't answer. She couldn't feel his warmth, his presence like she usually could when the two spoke telepathically.

Nonetheless, she kept trying.  _Aris? Can you hear me? I'm stuck in this dark room, I can't see, I don't know where I am, I'm scared, my chest hurts-_

Taking her first successful deep breath, she remembered. She should've been dead and cold to the touch right about now.

_I'm alive._

Still, she received no answer from her best friend, leaving her feeling even more alone than she had before, if that was possible. Letting out a sigh in defeat, her shoulders dropped a little as her bare fingertips slid down a few inches on either wall. Rocking back on her heels absently in thought, Rachel realized that she COULD even shift her weight in that manner. That doesn't happen in ice skates.

Bending a leg across so her foot rested on her opposite thigh like a 4, the Icer grasped spastically to figure out her shoe situation.

Sneakers. Actual sneakers, not snow boots, not ice skates, but sneakers. She knew she'd worn them at some point in her life, but that was before the Spring, so she couldn't remember anything more than that fact. They fit comfortably though, and she felt the bottom and found grooves for traction. At least they were somewhat practical.

Putting her foot back down, Rachel's focus became absorbed by something else: light. Not much light, not very much at all, actually: only enough to barely make out the outlines of herself and the room, which she now confirmed was tiny, like a janitor-closet size. And empty, completely empty, except for herself and this newfound light source.

It was large, almost like a door, but definitely wasn't solid. It was a slate gray, shimmering and flowing viscously as if it were the surface of the ocean, being held back by some invisible wall. The glisten that the two-dimensional plane provided was the light she'd been seeing, glinting every once in a while and giving her a glimpse of her surroundings.

Whatever it was, it had to be her ticket out of there. It just had to. There was literally nothing else for her to utilize to escape. If interacting with this didn't work, she wouldn't be any worse off than she already was anyways, so she had to try.

Taking a few steps towards the planar surface, Rachel continued to skim her fingers along the walls, almost captivated by its behavior and motion patterns. She'd never seen anything like it in her life. Not in the life she remembered, at least.

 _Well,_  she thought to herself, swallowing whatever hesitation had been festering within her. _Here goes_.

Reaching forward, the girl eased her left hand towards the gray stuff, and then proved her suspicions correct by passing her arm through it. Yanking the appendage back and holding it close to her chest in almost disbelief, Rachel squinted her eyes at the surface, questioning whether or not this was a good idea after all. I mean, someone put her in this room, so someone would have to come back for her at some point, right?

She was pacing now, only a few half steps in either direction before pivoting, as she couldn't very much go any further than that. Ceasing her movement entirely and staring at the gray liquid-like surface, the Icer girl took a deep breath in. This was it.

With her heart about to burst from her chest, she squeezed her eyes shut tightly, and stepped through the flat-trans, vanishing from the dark room altogether.


	3. Discovery

 

            A wave of pure  _cold_  coursed in Rachel's veins as she crossed through the mysterious surface, leaving the dark-skinned girl to shudder involuntarily as she fell to her hands and knees. Her first instinct was to squeeze her eyes shut: coming straight from the pitch-black room, broad daylight was now blindingly bright. The sun was just as brilliant of a light source as she remembered, and sure, wherever-she-was was bright, but it was nothing compared to reflection off of the snow that blanketed the Spring. Blondies would have a solid day or two consisting of just squinting merely to adjust to the sheer brightness of the place.

A droplet of sweat beaded off her forehead, which led her to her next genius conclusion: it was  _warm_. For someone who can only remember snow and ice all her life, it was downright scorching here, and the UV rays hitting her exposed skin were probably toasting it to a crisp right about now. "What the hell..." she muttered to herself, lifting a hand and using the back of it to wipe the perspiration away from trickling down the sides of her face. Rachel scrunched her nose, finding the sensation revolting, and certainly not one she was used to.

Pulling the hand off her head, the Icer noticed little pebbles were embedded softly in her palms from putting weight on them; she was outside. Pushing herself to rest her body back on her knees, the girl began picking the little jagged rocks off of her skin to bide her time, and to try to focus on something else besides the fact she had no idea where the hell she was. Because that little uncertainty was already making her breaths increasingly difficult, the girl slowly starting to panic no matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise.

"Where in the world...?" She mumbled again, a hand going instinctively to her browbone to shield the sun as she looked around where she was kneeling. It was some sort of corridor, some unknown place she hadn't ever seen before. But it was outdoors, not enclosed.

Standing, Rachel brushed off her knees, feeling hopelessly trapped and starting to freak out. Still there was no one in sight. First the tiny room, now this spooky hallway thing, with only two directions she could go. And both looked equally ominous.

 _It's okay, Rachel. Just go to the left. It'll be fine. You'll be fine._  She mentally instructed herself, doing everything within her own power to keep her cool. Now that she was in a more-lighted surrounding, she finally got a good look at what she was wearing; a maroon 3-quarter sleeve shirt and khaki pants, with some sort of utility belt with lots of heavy pockets and... knives hanging in holsters from it? Why she would need weapons was beyond her, but it surely didn't calm her nerves any that whoever sent her here sent her armed.

Walking to the left as she'd decided, the girl knitted her eyebrows and skimmed her fingers along the stone wall on her right. It looked old, with chunks chipped out of it and almost completely succumbed to some green overgrowth. Wherever she was, it looked like a place that hadn't been touched in a long, long time.

Left, right, left, right, left. Her feet tapping along the hard, almost rocky soil beneath her, provided the only sound in the eerily quiet corridor. She cleared her throat and heard it echo, the reverberating sound distracting her to the point she'd forgotten about her hand on the wall. It touched something different from the rest of the jagged rock and she instantly recoiled out of instinct, from not knowing what just touched her. And then she saw it. It was a coppery metal  _something_ , just the corner, and it looked old and like it'd been there for years and years, as the majority of it was covered in the vines that laced the walls. Her curiosity piqued, Rachel gingerly pushed aside the ivy to get a better view of what she'd touched, tilting her head to the side a bit as she peered past at the metal sign.

**W ORLD | CATASTROPHE | KILLZONE | DEPARTMENT**

**SITE A**

Almost THROWING the vines back over the sign, Rachel reeled back, her heart rate spiking and her breathing fast and shallow now. Her eyes looked akin to that of a deer's in headlights, flicking around frantically as she tried to find something, ANYTHING to discredit what she'd just seen. But the more she looked, the more nauseous she felt. The walls. The overgrowth, the long corridors, she didn't know how she didn't realize it sooner.

She was back in the Maze. Only this time, it wasn't  _hers_.

Sweating much more furiously now, the 17-year-old screwed her eyes shut as tightly as she could, hoping that maybe the image would swim a bit and then disappear altogether when she opened them again.  _Aris?!_  Rachel called out desperately, wanting nothing more at the moment than the comfort that her best friend was even alive. That he was nearby, ideally.  _Aris, please, please say you can hear me, please just, be there._

Nothing. Not even a hint of warmth from his presence. He wasn't there.

Hyperventilating now, true panic setting in, Rachel backed up until she was pressed against the opposite wall, her eyes glued to that corner she'd touched. Looking in either direction of the maze's corridor, and then up at the sky, reality started to hit her of the depth of her situation.

It's WCKD. It's still WCKD, it's always been WCKD.

Shaking out of fear and reacting on impulse from her sheer frustration, Rachel threw her hands over her eyes and screamed so loud her lungs burned.

 

 

Minho jerked back, almost dropping the slimy, fleshy pulp he'd ripped from inside the dead Griever's chest area. All five of the boys, including the Keepers he and Thomas had recruited to come dissect the thing with them, looked at each other for an answer on what in the world that noise was. It didn't sound like a Griever, but it sure as hell didn't sound pleasant either.

Scooping out the blinking and metal cylinder that had been embedded in the monster, the Runner's mind was racing. Machines? In the creatures? And that scream that echoed throughout the entire maze?

Wiping off some of the urine-colored goo from the machine, he tossed it to Zart, who clumsily caught it and struggled to keep his hands on the slick thing, all the while scrunching his nose in disgust. "Bring it back, show Newt." Minho instructed, wiping some of the snot-like globs of residue off of his fingers. He lightly hit the back of his hand on Thomas's chest, flicking a glance over at the Greenie before addressing Winston and Frypan as well. "You guys get back to the Glade. It's your first two lefts and a right. I cut vines on the way, you'll find it fine. But it's getting late."

"Aren't you coming?" Frypan inquired, having taken Zart's shovel off of the Track-Hoe's hands that were now preoccupied with the device.

"We'll be there. Thomas and I are gonna check out in front of section 5, where that scream came from." The Asian man nodded curtly, pulling out a dagger from behind his shoulder as protection. "We'll be there," he repeated for reassurance, before jutting his chin out at the newest Glader and taking off around the corner. Thomas got the memo, and nodded at the other three boys before following suit.

He had to sprint a little to catch up to Minho, probably one of the only people who actually didn't mind him in the Glade. "What do you think it was?" He inquired, asking endless questions as usual.

"Don't know," Minho answered curtly, picking up the pace now that he knew Thomas had matched his stride. His words weren't even slightly out of breath when he spoke them. "But it's like I said. All the other Runners quit after Alby got stung during the day, too. So it shouldn't be anyone from the Glade. And I don't know about you, shuck-face, but that didn't sound like a Griever to me."

For once, Thomas stayed silent, internalizing the new information and trying to brainstorm what the screech came from, all while keeping up with Minho's sharp turns and sudden advances in pace. It was getting later in the afternoon, but far too early for the Maze to start changing, so it couldn't just be a gear that was in desperate need of oil. And it didn't sound hollow or inorganic like the Greiver moans or Maze whirrs did; this sounded real and full of terror. And he was honestly not so sure that it was the smartest idea for the two of them to run  _towards_  that, but curiosity had gotten the better of him, and this was no coincidence and therefore must be linked with finding a way out of the Maze. So he had to know, as well.

After about 20 minutes of running and 2-3 miles spanned later, Minho whipped around another corner before stopping dead cold, causing Thomas to stumble into a halt as well as he saw what the older boy was so fixated on.

Around this corner was a  _girl_.

She was about the same height as Minho, with thick curly black hair that cascaded in front of half her face. Her eyes were wide and frantic, her teeth gritted, and her arm was extended towards them with a knife gripped defensively, silently threatening them not to come a single step closer. All three of their breaths were heavy and burdened, whether from stress of having just run or fear.

Rachel took a step back, shaking as she studied the foreign boys in front of her. They were silent, for a moment, almost dazed the discovery of others out in the Maze. Then, the boy with the spiked hair and chest strap broke the silence, speaking out in almost an accusatory tone.

 

"Who the shuck are you?"


	4. Mistrust

 

            "You know damn well who I am." Rachel seethed her words, eyes flicking back and forth between the two very convincing-looking teenage boys in front of her. WCKD really would go to the lengths of anything to break her, it seemed.

Jerking her arm more straight to shove her small weapon further towards their direction, the girl's breaths were still thick as they spilled out from between her lips. "Why did you do this? Why did you kill me- or  _pretend_  to kill me- and then throw me back into the finching Maze?!"

Her voice was raw, cracking on the last word as she clenched her teeth once more. Thomas's eyebrows knit downward towards the center in perplexion, he and Minho sharing a glance between them to confirm they were both really hearing the same thing. He took a small step towards the terrified girl, his hands half up as if to show that he wasn't trying to hurt her. "Look, we don't-"

"Answer the question!!" Rachel snapped, raising her voice as she pointed the dagger at Thomas, clutching it with both hands in front of her now. Her whole body posture then suddenly softened, her elbows relaxing slightly and posing not as imminent of a threat while her eyes watered and the girl began to shake. Her voice came out unsteadily, wavering as she spoke much softer than before. "...Why? Why did you do this?"

Thomas swallowed heavily, the question feeling personal after everything that everyone had been accusing of him of: being the one at fault for all of them to be sent here in the first place. He stumbled backwards a little, the words hitting home, stunned to silence.

Luckily for him, Minho spoke up, so he didn't have to. "What the hell are you talking about? We didn't do a shucking thing to you." He stepped forward brazenly, crossing his arms over his chest harness now. Rachel suddenly had her energy back, and jolted as if Minho were a jumpscare. She widened her stance and gripped the knife in his direction now, as he had become the new threat.

"Don't lie to me!" She demanded, but Minho was clearly unafraid, convinced that her weapon being held out was a bluff. But she was scared, she was oh-so-scared, and convinced these two men were nothing but WCKD's newest fun way to confuse and torture her. "I know who you are! You're not fooling me! I know you're with WCKD!"

Once he heard her desperate words, Thomas finally chimed into the conversation, his mental gears spinning at a mile a minute as he tried to process what she'd just said. "WCKD," he muttered, placing a hand on Minho's shoulder to cut off the Runner's undoubtedly snippy comeback before it even began.  _WCKD is good,_  he recalled hearing that woman say in his sleep, further convincing him that those perhaps weren't exactly dreams, but poorly recovered memories. "W-C-K-D, yeah?" The greenbean spelled it out as he spoke, curious as to what the supplies, the creators, and this girl now all had to do with each other. She, however, seemed to know something they didn't, as his innocent question only angered her further.

"Don't play stupid!" Rachel yelled, growing tired of their mind games. "Who are you? What do you want with me? Why am I here?"

Minho groaned, sick of being bossed around by some random girl who just suddenly appeared in the Maze. HIS Maze. His domain. He was the Keeper of the Runners, knew this damn labyrinth like the back of his hand, and wasn't willing to be told what to do in it any longer.

"You listen up, slinthead. We could sit here and yell at each other over whatever the hell you  _think_  we are all night, but I'm personally not really looking for another Griever-Party so soon. So you're going to listen to  _me_ , or you're going to spend the night out here and I won't even be sorry. Understand?" His cheeks were pink in anger and frustration, Minho wanting nothing more than to get back to the Glade and catch up with the others on just what that device was that he pulled out of the monster.

Rachel opened her mouth in a fury, throwing her arms down to her sides as she huffed in to speak, but Minho cut her off with a hand. "Not-uh-uh, that doesn't sound like listening."

The Icer narrowed her eyes at the spiky-haired boy, before angrily sliding the knife back into its little holster on her belt with a "Hmph." Minho breathed a sigh of relief, glancing over at Thomas, who had been silent in thought.

"Good." The Runner praised her cooperation, his shoulders relaxing a little as he put his own weapon away as well. "Follow us. Don't ask too many questions. We've got a lot to talk about at the Keeper Meeting."

Minho turned tail to run, before Thomas's voice cut in and stopped him. He understood a little more of what the girl was feeling- maybe not exactly, based on her words, but he knew the confusion, and fear, and how unwelcoming the Gladers could come across, having long forgotten their own time being a scared little Greenie. "Look," the newer boy interjected, holding Minho in his place as he spoke much more gently than his friend had to the girl. "We all- we were all put here, just like you." He held his hands up once more, even though this time Rachel was unarmed, and took a step towards her. She tensed up, but didn't recoil to expand the distance, so he continued. "None of us know who put us here, or why, or... anything, really, about our entire lives before this place. All we know are our names. Like, for example, I'm Thomas." He held out his hand towards the girl, who stared at it very apprehensively. One of her own was curled around the hilt of her knife, before the tension melted away a bit, and she eased up a little.

Rachel didn't know why, but something about Thomas was very familiar. Felt very similar, to herself. They carried similar mannerisms, and he very vaguely reminded her of Aris, but also, was completely different. It was a confusing mix of emotions she felt from his speech, something deep within her, as if she'd... known him, before. Like she could trust him.

Or maybe this was just another one of WCKD's sick tricks.

Taking a deep breath in, she ultimately decided she had no choice anyways than to play along; if this really was another Maze just like hers, the Shades could be attacking them any second now. Might as well get back to their Spring where at least she'd be safe.

Slipping her hand into the palm of his, she shook it firmly, giving a curt nod at Thomas as if to now confirm her cooperation. "I'm Rachel," she introduced, before both she and Thomas turned their attention to Minho for him to do the same.

Instead, the Runner just raised his eyebrows as he stared back at them, before huffing. "And I'm burning daylight. Let's go."

Minho took off back around the corner he and Thomas had come, jogging lightly so the two newbies didn't lose him. Since when had he become designated Greenie-babysitter?

Rachel looked over and rolled her eyes at Minho's answer, to which Thomas only shrugged his shoulders and began moving as well. He stuck by her side to make sure she didn't fall too far behind, tossing a few words over in her direction as they rounded the corner, too. "That's Minho. Sarcastic as hell, but he's a good guy underneath. Very smart. We've just... Had a lot going on recently, and he's anxious to figure it all out."

Rachel just nodded to dismiss his attempt to defend his friend's actions, focusing more on how to make the pain already burning in her legs and torso go away. It wasn't that she wasn't in shape, but she hadn't run in at least a few weeks now, and based on how difficult it was for her, she probably didn't do it all too much in her life before the Spring either. Every time her foot struck the ground, she instinctively hesitated for a second, used to the glide that ice skating provided in-between strides. But this was just the ground, which led to jolts sent up her shins from the awkward contact, and the girl almost falling forward after every step as momentum drew her to continue on when her feet did not. Overall, it made for her running very awkward and exhausting, causing her lungs burn in a different way than breathing below-freezing air did. She felt overheated as sweat stained her shirt and clung to her body, dancing on the tips of her eyelashes no matter how frequently she wiped away her forehead.

"You alright back there?" Minho called out when he could hear her breaths significantly louder and struggling more than Thomas and his combined, to which Rachel just gulped air and ungracefully sputtered back her reply, not wanting to stop or ask for a break and make these two think she was weaker than she actually was.

"Just... peachy...!" Rachel pushed forward, gulping the thick mucus that had begun to coagulate at the back of her throat. "Jeez, I don't... Remember the Maze... Being this big..." She muttered to herself, focusing on her breathing in hopes that doing so would lessen the pain.

Thomas cocked his head to the side to get a look at her, intrigued by what she'd just said. His voice came out much steadier than hers, but not nearly as casual as Minho's was when he had chimed in. "Remember? What do you mean you remember the Maze?"

She looked at him briefly, but then just focused in front of her once more, not bothering to answer. Instead she called out to Minho, who was ahead of them, and not relenting on his speed one bit as the shadows crept up the walls to denote the evening was coming quickly. "Are... We almost there?"

To her surprise, the Asian guy actually slowed to almost a stop, pivoting to face the two of them as he continued to walk backwards in a tour-guide fashion. "You tell me," Minho quipped, sweeping out a hand as he crossed into an intersection that made a T, gesturing to his right for the other two to look in that direction once they'd caught up.

Rachel was heaving breaths in and out, her hands grasping her thighs as she bent over a little, feeling almost nauseous from the run as she weakly looked in the direction he was pointing. There she saw an opening that was the exact same as the Doors back in the Spring, however, what was between them couldn't have been any different. Their home was covered in lush green grass, soft soil, and big, picture-perfect trees painted a far lighter hue than all her Maze's old evergreens were. Bodies milled about, too far away to make out, but all in a notable lack of puffy jackets, pants, and boots. They wore thin clothes, all earthy or soft colors, muddied with dirt and sweat.

Minho interrupted her sheer amazement at taking in how  _different_  it was from her Spring, clearing his throat before speaking.

 

"Rachel, welcome to the Glade."       


	5. Meeting of the Keepers

 

            Rachel collided into Minho with a low "oof," as he stopped abruptly, the girl having stumbled in a very uncoordinated fashion behind him for the last hundred feet or so before passing through the East Doors to the Glade. Grasping his shoulder to straighten herself, she heard the cause of his sudden braking; a younger voice was speaking out, just in front of the Asian man.

"Guys, guys," the kid addressed, grabbing all three of theirs' attention. Looking at the source of the noise, she noticed it was a boy, maybe twelve or thirteen, with bouncy curled hair that had a similar texture to her own, only much lighter in hue. "Gally found out you guys left." He spoke in a much more somber voice now, lacking any sort of excitement he'd had upon seeing Minho and Thomas' return. "He called a meeting of the Keepers," the boy continued, before pointing past the trio to a corner of the Glade. "Everyone's at Council Hall."

When Minho, Rachel, and Thomas were all silent, just looking in the direction the kid had pointed, the younger boy took the opportunity to press forward. "Who's she?" He asked, flicking his gaze to Rachel before looking to Thomas for an answer.

Minho didn't bother to reply, more worked up about the younger kid's first statement, already taking off in the direction of the shabby wood hut in the corner that he'd dictated. Thomas let out a short puff of a stressed breath, looking back at the brown-haired boy before nodding curtly. "I'll tell you later. Just... Don't tell anyone you saw her, okay, Chuck? Can you do that for me?"

Chuck nodded eagerly, and Rachel could tell that he really looked up to Thomas. Before she could even muster a smile for the sweet-seeming kid, Thomas had grabbed her shoulders, steering her hastily towards the hut Minho had jogged to a few seconds earlier.

"Stay here," he instructed, planting her just outside the makeshift door as he opened it to disappear inside.

"Wait," Rachel interrupted, making the boy stop and glance at her for a brief moment awaiting what she had to say. When she only gaped in response, he continued in, vanishing from view as he shut the door behind him.

Rachel mumbled to herself, not really the type to take orders, especially from those she didn't know nor really trust. What was so important that they were hiding from her? Why were they all so vague? It's not like she's never been in a Maze before. Hell, she escaped from hers, faster than these boys were on pace to. If anybody should be leading the show around here, it should be her.

Leaning forward to peek between the cracks of the sloppily-tied-together vertical bamboo poles that served as the door, she craned to get a taste of what was really going on in there. Pressing her ear to the door and glancing to the side instead, she listened in.

"Well it's nice of you to join us," a sarcastic voice she didn't recognize chimed in once Minho and Thomas entered, sounding accusatory as he continued. "You boys enjoy your little field trip?"  
"What the hell, Gally?" Another person- definitely Minho, she identified- snipped back at the other guy.  _Gally_ , she reinforced, trying to associate voices with names to keep the conversation straight. "You think you can call a Keeper meeting without us?"

"Last time I checked, the  _Greenie_  wasn't a Keeper- you mind waiting outside?"

Rachel squinted as she peered through once more- Gally's tone contradicted his words, spewing nothing but distaste for whoever he was talking about, as if they weren't important enough to be in there with them. From her view, she could see Thomas shift uncomfortably from behind, before a hand flew defensively across his chest, as if to stop him from going anywhere. Minho's hand.

"He stays," the Runner demanded, and Rachel made another mental note:.

"What's the point of all this?" Minho huffed, his change in tone denoting he was addressing someone besides Gally now.

"We've got two hours until sun-down," a new boy spoke, with a sense of leadership laced in his accented voice. "We gotta figure out what to do with Alby."  
Who Alby was, or why they had to  _do something_  with him, was beyond Rachel's knowledge. She didn't even try to figure it out, just continuing to listen and hope things started making sense.

"You want to banish him," another voice she didn't know stated, and was followed quickly by Gally's.

"No." He exhaled, anxiousness evident in the way he spoke. "No one  _wants_  to banish anyone. Alright? But he's stung, we don't have a choice."

" _Yes,_  we do!" Someone who'd been quiet this whole time piped up, challenging Gally's statement.

"Did you  _say_  something, newbie?" Gally threatened, daring Thomas to take back his words. But he didn't relent, and spoke up against the more-senior boy.

" _Yeah_ , we  _HAVE_  a choice, we don't have to banish Alby," Thomas spoke more fiercely now, power behind his words.

"Right," Gally said snarkily, clearly not believing a word the Greenie said, thinking him to be nothing more than naïve and troublesome. It made the girl ball her hands into fists; the way he spoke to Thomas was the exact same kind of dismissal Beth had about herself when shooting down any of Rachel's own ideas back in the Spring. "And how's that?"

Hearing no words, only shifting, Rachel changed to peering instead of listening once more, tilting her head to the side in attempt to get a better view.

Thomas was holding out something metallic; something Rachel didn't recognize and only caught glimpses of as it was passed between the boys. "Yeah, we found this," he offered, before adding comment on Gally's first accusation. "On our  _'field trip.'_ "

"It was inside a Griever," Thomas further explained, the words meaning nothing to her personally, but she assumed via all the context clues she'd gotten thus far that that was just their slang for Shades.

"These are the same letters we get on our supplies," the leader boy spoke again, Rachel now identifying him to be the blonde one in the center, one of the only two boys facing her. His gaze flicked around between his audience's faces, and Rachel held her breath, fearing he'd make eye contact with her and discover her snooping.

"Yeah," Thomas started again, grabbing the boy's attention and saving Rachel from that possibility. "Whoever put us here obviously made the Grievers," he walked through his thinking, before defending himself. "Now this is the first, real clue, the first  _anything_  you've found in over three years, right Minho?"

Rachel could see Minho's hair bob down and up, meaning the boy had nodded in affirmation. "Right."

"Newt," Thomas spoke softer now, pleading with the blonde boy. "Who knows where this might lead us?"

A short moment of silence passed over the group, as they all clearly awaited Newt's answer.  _Newt: blonde, accent, leader. Got it._

Her train of thought was interrupted by nothing more pleasant than Gally's voice once more, turning to Newt and acting as if the others weren't there at all. "You see what he's trying to do, right?" The stocky boy huffed, almost offended that Thomas's proposal was even considered. "First he breaks our rules, and then he tries to convince us to abandon them totally? Why-." Gally was becoming worked up now, very headstrong in his beliefs that Thomas was truly up to no good due to his lacking ability to keep the Glade's order. "The rules are the  _ONLY_  thing that have ever held us together- why now are we questioning that?" The tall boy shifted his weight in frustration, before continuing on confident in his words. "If Alby was here, you know he'd agree with me. This shank," gesturing to Thomas, Gally finally got to the point of his whole speech: "needs to be punished."

Rachel couldn't believe it. After what she'd heard from both sides, and her very  _very_ limited knowledge on the Glade's inner workings, she assumed that things must be different now than they usually were, as both Thomas and Minho were treating their discovery like it was a big deal. Peeling back from the door for a moment, Rachel took a wide look around the enclosed area, with all of its inhabitants milling about and minding their own business. It was amazing to her that no one had seemed to even see her here, or question who she was. And it was then that Rachel made a harrowing realization that confused her even further: there was not a single girl to be seen. All that time in the Spring, the Icers wondering where all the world's males went: Rachel thought it was safe to say she found out the answer now.

Hearing Newt's faint voice again, she quickly pressed her ear to the slot once more, back to listening. "-right." She caught the end of whatever he'd said, thankful that he continued and filled her in on what she'd missed. "Thomas broke the rules."

Feeling her face pale, Rachel was shocked. They were really going to punish Thomas for making the first discovery this sorry lot ever even had in the first place?

"One night in the pit, no food."

"Oh, COME ON, Newt!" Gally clearly wasn't pleased with the compromise. "One night in the pit- I-! Do you think that's going to stop him from going into the Maze?!"

"No." Newt said in a matter-of-fact tone, his eyebrows scrunching as if that was the craziest thing he'd ever heard. "And we can't just have non-Runners running into the maze whenever they feel like it."

Rachel could see Thomas jitter nervously- it seemed like he didn't mean to upset Newt by his actions, showing the first signs of regret since arriving there due to what he had perceived as scolding.

But then Newt continued. "So let's just make this official." He turned and looked Thomas dead in the eye, stating with authority: "Starting from tomorrow, you're a Runner."

Minho nodded in approval, Gally honsetly seeming to be the only one in disagreement with the decision. "Wow," he scoffed, storming up and towards the door.

"Gally," one of the boys tried to get him to stay, but the Builder just pushed his hand away.

"Nah, Fry."

Rachel stepped back, frantic to find somewhere to hide. Gally was coming straight towards her, in seconds he'd be swinging open the door. And he didn't seem like the type of person she wanted to talk to on a regular day, much less now when he was in a bad mood.

"Thanks, Newt." Thomas said softly, casting his gaze downward in a humble manner as he fiddled with his hands. "But that's not all we found out there, Minho and I-"

He was cut off by a loud "HEY!" just outside the Council Hall, making all the boys still within it snap their head towards the source of the sound. There was grunts of struggling, as Gally burst back into the structure, his face red with frustration as he shoved his finding towards the group. He held Rachel's arms twisted behind her back with an iron grip, and no matter how much she writhed, she couldn't get free. "Let me... go!"

He looked individually between the faces of the other Keepers and the Greenie, huffing in anger at the new complication to their predicament.

When no one spoke, Gally spat out a demand, his glare landing in locked eye contact with Thomas.

"Who the hell is this?"


	6. She's Awake

 

            "Gally, let her go." Thomas held out a hand in their direction, speaking with urgency as he commanded the Builder to release his grip on the Icer. A command in which the latter of course, did not follow.

"Oh, so you know her now?" Gally hissed his words, readjusting his hold on her wrists and twisting them into an even more immobilizing and uncomfortable position. "You have secret accomplices helping you destroy things around here, Greenie? Who the hell is she, and how did she get here? First two Greenies in two days- now there's two  _girls_  in two  _hours_? How did she-"

"I don't,  ** _KNOW_** , Gally!" Thomas interrupted, raising his voice now. It was enough to make everyone in the room stop cold, even Rachel, who had been jerking her arms and grunting the whole time in attempt to get free. She and Thomas made eye contact, briefly, his eyes softening a little in pity before returning to the stony hard gaze in which he aimed at Gally, behind her. "Look," He said with a deep breath, regaining his cool as he gestured towards Rachel with his hand in a stressed manner. "We don't  _know_  how she got here. We don't  _know_  where she came from. All we know is she was  _put_ here, just like all of us were, okay?! She was in the Maze.  _Came_  from the Maze, so there must be a way out. Rachel never came up the box, am I wrong?"

Thomas paused, and the girl almost spoke up about how she did in fact come up in a box, but days ago, and in the Spring, not here. Instead, she decided to use the last of her energy, which was depleted from all the running she'd done, on craning her head back and throwing her nastiest glare back in her captor's direction.

Gally nearly snarled back, before jutting his chin out at Thomas accusingly. "What, so we're just taking in strays from the Maze, now? We don't even know who she is! What's next, you gonna bring a Griever home? Have him on a leash and call him Rover?"

That was enough of him for today. Rachel had reached her last straw, and Gally just broke it to tiny pieces with that remark. Nearly ripping her arm out of its socket, she tore her right hand free from his grip, and in one fluid motion spun around and connected her closed fist with the side of his jawbone. The rest of the boys erupted into action, Thomas and Minho flanking the girl on either side and hoisting her up by underneath her arms. In doing so, they left her unable to fight in any way besides thrashing her feet in the air fruitlessly. "I'm no goddamn evil monster. Stop talking about me like I am." The girl spat her statements in Gally's direction, not even caring about the guys restraining her now. She narrowed her eyes at the Keeper of the Builders, her blood boiling as she seethed a deep inhale. "And my name, by the way, is Rachel."

Silence hung in the air, tangible like a heavy blanket draped over all of them before Rachel spoke up again. Her breaths were deep now, from the struggle and the emotions as she lost her adrenaline rush. "I've  _been_  in the Maze before. I got out- I could be helping all of you escape! I know the way out!" She looked around now amongst the faces of the Keepers, her stare finally landing and staying locked on Newt's. He was the leader, after all: the one she should really be trying to appeal to. "I can help," she said more softly, confident that these boys needed her if they were ever to get out of here. She could lead them to the Cliff, tell them the code words, they could all escape. For real, this time.

Newt was incredibly unresponsive at first, his face harder to read than a full novel in a foreign language. All of the other boys were now looking to him as well, awaiting his call on this situation. Finally, the blonde boy grunted, skimming his fingertips across his lips and chin. He was clearly deep in thought about all the consequences of any actions they could take. "We don't know what her whole deal is yet, and certainly can't afford the other Gladers finding out about her and forgetting their work entirely. Those boys haven't seen a girl in years, and now there's  _two_ , and with Alby already out of commission I can't afford productivity to drop any lower than it already has around here." He paused, before crossing his arms, finally breaking eye contact with Rachel now as he shifted on his feet, as if battling with himself before looking up once more. "Throw her in the pit. Through the night, as punishment and to buy us time so that we can try to figure this all out."

"My pleasure," Gally grunted, roughly taking Rachel off of Minho and Thomas's hands by grabbing her waist and throwing her over his shoulder. He didn't trust her to walk on her own, and didn't want to risk another rogue fist whipping out of his grip and flying into his chin again.

"Wait- Hey!" Rachel called out as Gally had begun to cart her off, the girl pushing on the muscular boy's shoulder in attempt to loosen his grip around her stomach area. "I can help you! I know the way out of the-!!"

The door slammed behind her, concealing the rest of the Keepers from view and cutting off her last words. "Let-! Me-! Go!! Gally!!" She grumbled, still struggling as he crossed the grassy opening in large and unwavering strides, despite Rachel's attempts to escape.

Gally did nothing to even acknowledge her, much less respond. He slowed to a stop, his grip shifting from both hands to only one as he crouched to open something. Seeing this as her chance, the dark-skinned girl kicked in an attempt to dive out of his reach, but failed miserably. Instead, Gally grabbed her sides and used this newfound momentum to- quite literally- toss her down some shabbily-formed mud steps and into a hole, dug out and covered in a roof at ground level with a cross-hatched door so she could see what she was missing out on in the Glade.

Gally tied the door shut extra securely, as Rachel sprawled out in the dirt and heaved. The male had slammed her down, effectively knocking the wind from her chest. Her eyes cracked open as she peered up at the boy she already disliked, words forming on her lips in-between labored breaths.

"Why... Do you... Hate me... So much?" She inquired, lifting her head a little to get a better look at him.

He merely huffed at first, still fumbling with the string as to not pay her any attention, before eventually shifting his gaze to meet hers. He was crouched by the door, and narrowed his eyes as he leaned forward onto the opening for intimidation. "I don't have a good feeling about you, She-enie. Not you, nor the other girl, nor the Shank that started all this. Nothing went wrong until you all started showing up. Now we have a Griever dead, a box that won't ever come up again, and a girl suddenly appearing from thin air out in the Maze. I don't know how you're all linked, but I don't like it one bit."

He stood, brushing himself off before mumbling to himself, almost too quiet for her to make out. "That shuck-face Minho should've left you where he found you."

And like that, he was gone. Rachel scrambled hastily to her feet to ask him what he'd said, but when she peeked out the square holes, he was already too far away to call out to without drawing attention to herself. And if what Newt was saying was true, about no girls in years, making herself publicly known wasn't something she particularly wanted to do right now. Sitting down on the steps in defeat, Rachel let a sigh fall from her mouth, just trying to understand everything that had happened in the last few hours of her life. From waking up in the dark room, to suddenly being in a summertime Maze, to being found by Minho and Thomas, to running, and running, and the whole exhilaration and information from the Keeper meeting.

 _The other girl,_  Rachel recalled being mentioned, deep in thought. Why, in a group of all guys, would WCKD suddenly send up a girl?

As it dawned on her, her eyes widened. "Aris," the Icer muttered to herself, covering her mouth with her hand. "The other girl is  _their_  Aris."

 

 

"What about the note?" Frypan offered, breaking the quiet spell that had settled immediately as Gally took Rachel away. "I thought the girl- er, the OTHER girl was supposed to be the 'last one ever'."

This stumped the boys for a moment, before Newt spoke up. "We don't know that it's true, anyways. And even if it was..." He brushed some hair out of his face, leaning on one of the support poles holding up the structure. "Well, it only said 'she'. We don't know which 'she' they meant."

"Do you think people- Greenies- are going to start appearing in the Maze now? Like they're just done with the box?" Winston chimed in, stepping on one of the stairs and shifting his weight towards it, resting his forearms on his thigh as he waited for an answer.

"I don't think so," Newt replied, although he looked to Minho for confirmation of this assumption, as he knew the labyrinth better than anyone.

The Runner simply exhaled, not answering on the topic as he gripped the harness on his chest. "I have to show Thomas something before tomorrow. I need all the time I can get before sundown. I'll catch up with you guys later, okay?"

Minho didn't really wait for a response, already up and out the door as soon as his last word was spoken. Thomas lingered for a second, before following suit, heading out of the Hall as well and trailing behind his friend.

"You're a runner now," Minho explained, Thomas matching his stride as they walked briskly towards the Deadheads, for a reason unbeknownst to the newer of the two. "So you need to know how we do things. First, never run alone. Especially since it's just the two of us out there nowadays, no use in not running in pairs."

"Hey, where are we going?" Always a question, with Thomas.

"You'll see," Minho blankly responded, sufficiently ending the conversation for now as Thomas just followed him in silence for a few more minutes as they delved into the woods. Eventually, they happened upon a little shack: circular, in shape, and looked one good gust from blowing over entirely. Minho opened a door and disappeared inside, leaving Thomas no real choice but to do the same.

Once entered, the Greenie spun around in a slow circle, taking the small room in. Numbers littered the walls, in sequences that blended into each other as some had been crammed up there when no real room was left for them to occupy. A board also hung with a scratched-in list of rules for running, although Thomas didn't get the chance to read them before Minho tore away the cloth that had been concealing whatever stood in the dead center of the room, revealing it now as an intricate model.

"It's the Maze," Minho stated, leaning forward on the heels of his hands as he flitted his attention across the circular 3D diagram that he and the other Runners had created. "All of it."

Thomas squinted his eyes, glancing up at the Keeper as he added that last comment. "What do you mean, 'all of it'? I thought you were still mapping it?"

Without missing a beat, Minho answered: "there's nothing left to map." He let out a small sigh, hating to admit that out loud. "I've run every inch of it myself. Recycled. Every pattern." The Runner looked up at Thomas, reading his facial reaction to what he'd just laid down. "If there was a way out, we would've found it by now."

Thomas knit his eyebrows downward, confused by what the elder boy was saying. "Why haven't you told anyone this?"

Straightening up more and walking around the table towards the other boy, Minho wrung out his hands. "It was Alby's call. People needed to believe we had a chance of getting out."

Taking the small device that the two of them, Winston, Frypan, and Zart had all found inside the Griever earlier that afternoon, Minho chipped off some of the dried slime with his fingernail before passing it over to Thomas. "But maybe now, we have a real chance."

The cylinder glowed a bright red  **7**  in its small display screen, still blinking every few seconds even though the wires that had connected it to the Griever's body were ripped and frayed at the edges. Both boys stared at it for a second, pondering what the connection between it and the Grievers and escaping could be.

Clearing his throat, Minho shifted his attention back to the map. "Take a look at this. About a year ago, we started exploring these outer sections." He swept his hand over the circular outermost ring of the maze, where corridors were significantly wider than in the inner maze. "We found these numbers, printed on the walls: Sections one," he pointed, "through eight. See the way it works, is every night, when the Maze changes, it opens up a new Section. So today, Section 6 was open. Tomorrow it'll be four, then eight, then three..." Minho trailed off, looking up at Thomas now to ensure he still had the new boy's attention, as what he was saying could be vital for any hopes of them getting out of the Maze once and for all. Satisfied with Thomas's concentration, he continued. "The pattern always stays the same."

The brown haired boy tore his attention off of Minho, and instead focused on the Griever machine he held within his hands. Absently, his thumb reached out and grazed over the crimson  **7** , as if it might wipe away if he tried to smudge it. But unsurprisingly, it was still there when his fingertip completed its motion. "What's so special about seven?" Thomas couldn't help but blurt out, raising his head to look at Minho once more.

"I don't know," the Keeper of the Runners confessed, breaking his focus by walking around the table in a pacing manner. "But last night, when you killed that Griever... Section 7 was open." Minho tapped the stone with a  **7**  chalked onto it with his forefinger, using it as reference. "I think it must be where it comes from. Tomorrow, you and I are going to take a closer look."

Thomas opened his mouth to respond, however, was overcome by the increasing crescendo of rapid footsteps, suddenly revealing Clint and Jeff standing in the doorway to the Map Room.

"What are you guys doing? You're not allowed in here." Minho spoke defensively, having worked hard all of his (remembered) life for this map, which was to be heavily protected and only seen by Runners themselves.

"Sorry, it's just the-uh-" Jeff started, but was interrupted when Clint cut to the chase and blurted out the point.

"It's the girl," he said, leaning on the doorframe to catch his breath from having run there.

"Rachel? What could she possibly have done, Gally put her- oof!" Minho coughed suddenly as Thomas smacked the boy's chest to shut him up- a ballsy move for a rookie like him. Minho glared at the Greenie, but realized why he'd done what he did when Thomas spoke up, about the  _first_  girl.

"Is she awake?" He asked, trying to play it off and hope neither of the Med-Jacks asked any questions about what Minho had just let slip.

The two non-Runners looked at each other for a moment, before Jeff responded.

"You could say that."

All four of them ran towards the lookout in the center of the Glade, where a lot of commotion and chaos was unfurling before their eyes. All of the Gladers had surrounded it, holding up box lids or some of Frypan's woks as protection from large chunks of debris that were being hurled from the top of the tower defensively.

 

 

Rachel could hear some shouting, and clanging of something striking something else, but couldn't really see what was going on from her position. That didn't keep her from wrapping her hands around the bars and trying her damn best to snag a peek, though.

One of the voices yelling- although she couldn't make out the words exactly- was noticeably higher in tone than the others.  _The girl,_  Rachel thought to herself, even more desperate to get a look to see what her only other female companion was here now. Being raised around just other girls all her cognizant life, Rachel was really feeling the culture shock of being thrown into a Maze with only boys, so she was just dying to know who this other female could be.

Realizing that unfortunately no matter how hard she tried, she wouldn't see the other girl, Rachel sat back against the mud wall and tried to imagine what she might look like, just to bide time. Maybe she was around her own age? The voice didn't sound like a child's, she had to have been in her mid to late teens. And maybe she—

Suddenly, as she was trying to imagine this other girl, a very distinct image appeared in her head. Jet black hair, startling blue eyes, front teeth that were a little bit crooked, her nose slightly upturned, pale skin, and freckles dotting across her nose and cheeks. A warmth emanated throughout her body as she imagined this, the same kind of warmth she felt when...

... _Rachel? Is that you?_  She heard very clearly in her mind, the same way she and Aris used to communicate with each other. Only, this very definitively wasn't Aris: it was a much more feminine voice, and it... Linked to the mental image of the other girl in her mind perfectly.

The other girl could talk to her. The other girl knew her.

 

_What are you doing here?_


	7. Reminiscing

 

            "She's the last one." Teresa's voice sliced through the pause that had wedged its way between her and Thomas, pressing her fingers firmly together on either side of the note that had come up in her hand. She didn't want it to blow away in the soft breeze that swept through the Glade at the moment, which was pushing her hair out of her face and behind her shoulders. "What does that mean?"

Thomas was staring at his feet, which dangled haphazardly next to hers over the edge of the lookout's tallest platform. "I'm not sure," he admitted, ripping apart a loose string that had frayed off of the cloth wrapped around his wrist. "But ever since you came up, that box hasn't gone back down." The two of them both looked over towards the dead center of the Glade-perfectly equidistant to all four walls. That was where the metal grate doors to the box laid, still exposed to the harsh daylight, not having retracted to beneath the concrete barriers as it typically did upon Greenie arrival day. "You know, I just think it's kinda got everyone a little worried," the boy continued, bringing both their focuses back to the conversation at hand. "... Especially Gally." He jutted his chin down in the direction of where Gally stood, pointing him out to Teresa as they both stared down at him. He had his arms across his chest, glaring back up at them, clearly having been watching their little chat for a long time. Seeing Thomas and Teresa both looking his way, Gally swayed and finally broke his gaze, absentmindedly kicking at the dirt as if to show nonverbally just how impatient he was for them to stop being so confidential.

"He thinks it's my fault," Teresa eventually spoke, letting out a small sigh and shrug of her shoulders.

Thomas didn't want to lie to the girl and say that that wasn't true, so he just stayed quiet for a moment, staring down at his lap in thought. "... You sure you don't remember anything else?" He didn't know why he bothered asking- nobody ever remembered anything except their name. Yet, the words still slipped out of his mouth, even though he fully expected a 'no.'

Surprisingly, that was not her answer. "I remember... water." Teresa made eye contact with him now, speaking quietly as if she were revealing one of her deepest, darkest secrets. "Feeling like I was drowning." The black-haired girl let out a silent breath, looking at the note briefly for a moment before meeting Thomas's eyes once more. "These faces, staring at me." The boy had grown paler, confused by the familiarity of what she was describing. He zoned out, trying to piece it together, but continuing to listen carefully to whatever else she had to say. "These voices... This woman's voice, saying the same thing, over and over-"

"Wicked is good." Thomas interjected, his voice disembodied of any emotion due to how deep in thought he was. Shaking his head a little, he looked over at Teresa to read her reaction, and based on the surprise written all over her face, Thomas assumed he'd been correct in his guess of what the woman she spoke of was saying. Shifting his weight back onto his palms to face her a little more, he began to explain himself, exceedingly interested in the fact they both experienced the same thing. It convinced him even further that the images he saw were no figment of his imagination. "Ever since I've been here, I've had these dreams. Well, I  _thought_  they were dreams."

Realizing something, the boy squinted his eyes a little in confusion. "You... You were there." He looked up at the girl's face once more, studying it to confirm this was the same one he'd been seeing when he slept. "You were there, and," he repeated, "...and you told me everything was going to change."

Teresa bit her lip, leaning forward more on her forearms as she stared back at Thomas. "What does it mean?" She inquired, wondering if he had any idea.

The boy swallowed roughly, eyes flittering around the Glade, now anxious for an answer. "I don't know, I- I just always get pieces." He stammered his words, frustrated in his inability to remember anything further. He violently ripped some more fraying threads, stewing silently to himself as she spoke.

"And the others don't remember anything." Dancing on the line between statement and a question, Teresa focused on a group of boys talking near a small lean-to.

"No." Thomas answered, jittering a little as he huffed. "Why are we different?"

"That's... Not all that I remember." She stated, not answering his question but still grasping his attention fervently. What she had described already was all the extent he had remembered to, so if she recalled more, he certainly wanted to hear it. Seeing as the boy was stunned to silence, Teresa continued, clearing her throat. "I remember... Someone." She looked over at Thomas, tilting her head a little, wondering if he'd think she was crazy if she told him the truth. Instead, she focused really hard on him, thinking about exactly the message she wanted to convey.  _And I can talk to her, in my mind._

The boy gripped his forehead almost in pain at the sensation, confirming visually to Teresa that he had the ability to hear her as well, by the way he scrunched up his face. "How... How did you do that?" Thomas asked in bewilderment, daring to peek an eye open at the freckled girl sitting next to him.

 _I don't know how to explain it,_  Teresa stated, although her mouth never opened once. Her blue eyes tore into his figure, clearly concentrating a lot to be able to perform such an act.  _But I can. I think you can, too. I think I remember that._

Thomas thought the word "really?" as hard as he could, but the message didn't seem to get across. "Who is this girl you remember?" He asked out loud, rubbing his temple gently.

 _I don't exactly know who she is,_  Teresa forewarned, folding the note she'd been holding as a way to keep herself occupied.  _But I know her name._

Pausing for a moment, she made eye contact with the guy she knew from her past life, before continuing.

_It's Rachel._

Thomas shuffled back, a little away from Teresa when she revealed that tidbit of information. Did  _he_  previously know Rachel, too, then? And why couldn't he remember? "Rachel?" He asked in disbelief, his eyes instinctively darting towards the pit. "What about her?"

"So you know her, too," Teresa concluded, following his gaze as she assumed he looked at wherever the other girl was. Seeing nothing that matched her mental image, Teresa groaned a little in disappointment.

"Yes- well- no, not really. Not like I remember her." Thomas knit his eyebrows in confusion, trying to puzzle together how the three of them could relate to each other.

"I want to know why I do." Pulling her feet back onto the platform and out of the air below them, the girl turned towards him, ready to stand. "Is she here? I think if we're going to find out why the three of us aren't like the others, we'll need her involved in the conversation."

Thomas nodded, still taken aback by this new revelation about their past. "Yeah," He eventually added, stumbling to his feet before holding out a hand to help her up, as well. "Let's go see her."

They both hustled down the makeshift ladders that connected the levels of the lookout tower, Teresa impatiently jumping down from the halfway point of the lowest one and hitting the ground with a thud. Thomas carried himself with a sense of urgency, the long grass tangling in knots atop his boots and threatening to snag him as he speed-walked across the Glade. Teresa kept right on the boy's heels, following along and hoping that nobody stopped them to ask any questions. Their frantic pace eventually began to slow down, and eventually came to a sudden stop when Thomas crouched in front of some triangle-shaped structure, no taller than a couple feet off of the ground.

 _What are you-_  Teresa began, in his mind, before she saw for herself. A face appeared, revealing that what she was seeing was only the roof to a large hole in the ground: a prison of sorts. It was the face of a girl, with hopeful eyes and her mouth a little agape. Exactly the same girl she'd pictured in her mind, yet Teresa couldn't remember ever actually  _seeing_  her before.

Rachel was silent for a moment, just staring at the two teens before her. This was the first interaction she'd had in a few hours, and the pit was boring her to a painful, slow death. Or at least, that's what it felt like. So she was close to tears of joy at the sight of visitors.

"You," she began, gripping the door to her cell as she peered out at the other girl just on the opposite side of it. "You're the one who talked to me." Rachel narrowed her eyes- not in a rude way, just out of confusion and ... Fear. WCKD had messed with her head too much lately to trust anything from the get-go. "Who are you?"

Teresa didn't respond at first, just biting her lip and staring at the imprisoned girl in awe and disbelief, still trying to figure out how she knew exactly what Rachel looked like before meeting her. "I... Well, that's why we wanted to come talk to you." The pale female kneeled beside Thomas, putting her hands on her thighs as she got more level with Rachel to have a conversation. "I don't remember... Not much, anyways. All I know for sure is that my name is Teresa." She paused, looking around in hesitation, wanting to double check that they didn't have anyone loitering around nearby and listening in as she spoke quieter now. "Rachel, do you... Remember anything? From before the maze?"

The newer girl half-laughed in sick amusement, almost finding it funny how she was living such a nightmare. Escape the frying pan only to be thrown into another fire. Crossing her arms over her chest and leaning her back against a dirt wall of her chamber, Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Hah. Which Maze?"

Thomas scrunched his nose, moving anxiously and leaning forward more now; she'd been saying such confusing statements ever since they'd met, and he really wanted to know why. "What do you mean, 'which Maze?'" He pursed his lips, blinking a few times during the pause as he tried to piece things together. Teresa stayed silent, listening for Rachel's answer.

"I mean," the darker skinned girl began, huffing in frustration at her predicament. "When you found me, in the Maze, I had just escaped mine, only to be casted back into this hellhole."

Thomas pressed his lips together in a thin line, trying to grasp the reality of what she'd just said. So many thoughts were whizzing throughout the forefront of his brain, all fighting each other in the race to the tip of his tongue. Eventually, the genius statement that actually came out of his mouth was: "... What?"

Rachel sighed, remembering how lost and confused she had been when she first realized where she was after travelling through the Flat-trans. That she, Aris and the other girls weren't the only ones. That there were more, who knew how many more, simulations WCKD had in operation. "There's... More than one Maze, Thomas." She eventually let the cat out of the bag, looking up at the boy with glassy eyes as she finally broke. Her friends, her only friends, the only people she could ever remember trusting, were ripped away from her. Her life was too, for a moment, because she could've sworn her heart stopped after that knife impaled her chest. Or had it ever at all? Was that just a hallucination, all part of WCKD's cruel game?

She missed the Spring. Or rather, her first days in the Spring, before she knew they were trapped, before Ximena died, before the Shades attacked, before she lost Aris, Sonya, Harriet, Alejandra, Miyoko... Possibly for good. The only hope she had at ever seeing them again was starting over, escaping the Maze once more.

"What was yours like?" Teresa asked softly, seeing that Rachel was distraught and hoping that maybe talking about it would make her feel better. She was thrown here just like the rest of them, after all. Scared, confused, wanting to go home, wanting her life back. And Rachel's situation was debatably even worse; just when she thought she was free, she was put here now. But Teresa only knew bits and pieces, but that was what she assumed based on her limited knowledge. "Your... Maze," she clarified, the word feeling foreign and familiar at the same time as it rolled off her tongue. "What was it like?"

Rachel bit the inside of her cheek, staring blankly at the mud beneath her. Then, she took a deep breath, and began.

"Well... We called ourselves the Icers..."

 

Rachel shared with them her whole tale, how she came up in their box one day, too. She told them all about the Spring, how they consisted of all girls for years, and then Aris showed up the day after her. How their Maze was all frozen-over, how they mapped it on skates, which explained why she was so bad at running. How the Shades attacked, that they were these huge, leathery bat-like monsters that flew through the corridors, swooping down to dismember anything that moved. How she and Aris discovered the code words from the Maze's patterns, and they killed their Maze, only for some businesswoman to reveal she'd been behind it the whole time. That she herself was killed, by a deranged Beth, who'd disappeared into the Maze days before.

Thomas and Teresa listened very intently the whole time, not interrupting her once. "And the knife went in my chest, and... Then I woke up. Either it wasn't real, or they've got a hell of a good doctor. But I was just... Alone, in this tiny dark room, in completely new clothes." Rachel gestured to her body with her hands, which had dirt-covered fingerless gloves on them. Her shirt was similar to Thomas's when he first came up, only it was a deep red instead of pale blue. The shorts were a light wash of khaki, with front, back and side pockets for ultimate storage capacity. Looking at her, you'd think she'd been in the Glade for months, not hours. "I'm used to like, three layers, at all times, so this feels so skimpy to me." Thomas tried to imagine Rachel in a puffy ski jacket and snow shoes, but honestly couldn't. It was just so starkly different than what she was wearing now, and what everyone sported in the Glade, actually.

"And this stupid belt!" She complained, tugging at her waistband. "It's so heavy, and I can't finching figure out how to get it off!" Rachel fiddled with the utility belt around her midsection, struggling with it for a few seconds before giving up. "I don't know what everything in here is even for. Only thing I've used, honestly, was the knife I held pointed at you and Minho when we first met." The girl gave a small smile, remembering how she'd threatened them. While she certainly didn't  _trust_  the Gladers yet, for some reason she felt... Comfortable, around Thomas and Teresa. The three of them just  _clicked_ , like old buddies just shooting the breeze together on a Saturday afternoon. To herself, Rachel wondered if the three of them were close, before the Maze. It was the same sort of feeling she'd gotten the first time talking to Aris, a sense of homeliness and solidarity, only not nearly as strong as she'd felt with him. Here, it was just a question, but with Group B's only boy, Rachel just knew they had to have spent a lot of time together: had to have a lot of memories somewhere in those that they both lost.

"Well, what else did they give you?" Thomas gave a small smile back, curious now. Rachel looked between him and Teresa, before she started to unload all of its pouches and pockets.

"Three knives, varying sizes," The girl placed them all on the top dirt stair down into the pit, careful not to cut herself as she did so. "Some sort of multitool-pocket-knife thing. I haven't figured out all of the uses it has though. A pepper spray." She placed the two next to the knives, before switching to unload the other side. "A flashlight, but I can't figure out how to get it on. And this little stone-like thing... I think it's like a fire-starter, or something." Rachel dropped the light and stick of flint as she mentioned them, already feeling much lighter.

Teresa's eyes were wide at the pile she'd created just from emptying her belt, amazed Rachel could carry all of that with no hands. "Wow... That's... a lot."

"Yeah," Rachel agreed, before her face lit up. "Oh!" She twisted her torso, fishing through another one of the pockets towards the back and on her right side, before producing what she'd been looking for. "And these. I have absolutely no idea what these are, though."

The girl held out two tubes, a little longer and wider than a finger, silver on each end and clear in the middle with some cyan liquid filling them. She handed them through the cross-hatched door's gaps, both Thomas and Teresa taking one and inspecting it for themselves.

"W-C-K-D," Thomas read out, noticing they were the same letters that were branded on their supplies and on the Griever part they'd ripped out. "WCKD is good." He stated, now realizing what Rachel had been talking about when she kept mentioning "wicked." What the voices in his dreams had been talking about.

"WCKD is a load of shit," Rachel quipped back, resentful for what they'd done to her. She kicked a small rock, sending it skittering over to the other corner of her little cell.

Teresa turned the syringe in her hands, never taking her eyes off of it as she broke the silence that had settled in the pause. "What if we were sent here for a reason?" She asked off-handedly, to nobody in particular.

Thomas seemed to take it to heart, however, a wave of determination washing over his features as he flicked his gaze between both of the girls. He gripped his tube in a white-knuckled fist now.

"Alby."

He snatched the liquid out of Teresa's hand and running off, leaving the two girls alone, disappearing to the Med-Jack hut in the dwindling sunlight.


	8. Girl's Night

 

            "Who IS Alby?" Rachel wondered aloud, having heard the name multiple times between the meeting of the Keepers and now. She wanted to know why he was so important to keep being brought up, and why Thomas had run off with her tubes to give them to him.

"I don't know," Teresa expressed, sitting properly now and crossing her legs so she could be comfortable whilst holding the conversation with the other girl. "Thomas told me a little about this whole... Place, but not everything, for sure. It was kinda rushed, since Gally was pressuring us to come down." Cautious, now, Teresa looked around the Glade, hoping the boy in question was nowhere nearby and wouldn't see her or try to make any sort of interaction. He didn't seem to like her already, apparently thinking some recent changes were her fault. Relieved that they were Gally-free at the moment, the pale girl turned her attention back to the one in the pit. "Since you were in a Maze before, can you tell me what the hell is going on around here?"

Rachel's lips curled into a coy smile at the way Teresa had worded her question, nodding as she began to load her belt back up before she hurt herself with all the knives and survival materials just lying around. "Well... Basically," she grunted, stuffing the useless flashlight back into its pocket. "This place, er, the walls. The four walls, around the Sprin- The uh... Glade." The word sounded so wrong and stupid coming from her mouth, but if that's what the boys called it, there was no use confusing Teresa and calling it the Spring now. "Outside of it, there's a maze. A really big one- miles and miles across. And we were stuck here by someone, as punishment or something, I suppose. I honestly don't know why, just like you guys. I got double-punished, I guess." She finished cleaning up the pile she'd made, and placed her hands on her hips, looking up and making eye contact with Teresa now. "Usually a new kid comes up in the box, just like you did, once a month. That's how it was for my Maze at least, I'm betting it's the same here." Rachel jutted her chin over towards the center; as that's where the box had been in the Spring. "Unless you're me, and you just wake up and boom- you're out in the Maze."

"So, you didn't arrive here like all the others?" Teresa scrunched her nose a little in thought, trying to piece together all the information she'd gotten from both this girl and Thomas so far. Rachel shook her head no, before shrugging, which led to Teresa's next question. "Why are you different?"

The Icer pursed her lips as she looked up at the other girl. "I..." she'd started, but trailed off. "I don't know. But I remember my Maze, I remember the way out." Rachel began to pace, only a few steps across, and then back again, given her confined space, as she muttered to herself. "Float, catch, bleed, death, stiff, push..." The female recited; those six words were bound to be ingrained in her memory forever. The words Aris had put into the computer to kill the Maze.

"What?" Teresa asked, leering in now as she'd missed what Rachel had mumbled to herself.

Shaking her head, Rachel whipped around to face her once more. "I remember the way out, I don't know why they put me here. I don't know why I'm different, why I wasn't sent up like the others, why you, me, and Thomas were all sent in so quickly after each other, why-"

 _Why we can talk like this,_  Teresa interrupted, as it was a topic that had been burning a question in the forefront of her mind ever since she'd discovered it.  _I suddenly felt your presence, if that makes sense, when I first reached out to you. That's why I asked why you were here- you were the only person I recognized... Well, besides Thomas, I guess. He can talk like this, too._ Rachel had been trying to think about Teresa when she had originally reached out to her, so it made sense that Teresa had sensed her presence. But still, the Icer was unsettled by the idea of having either Teresa or Thomas in her mind.

Rubbing her upper arm sheepishly, the curly haired girl cleared her throat, before speaking out loud. "I... Yeah, why that either. But can you do me a favor, and like... Not do it, to me, anymore?" She wasn't comfortable to be on such a level with either of the Group A Elites, and wanted to keep the telepathy as special, a bond between her and Aris only. It was their thing, not something she really wanted to share with anyone else.

 _Why n-_  Teresa cleared her throat, catching herself and making an effort to switch back to verbal communication. "Why not?" She knit her eyebrows in concern, staring at Rachel intently.

The shorter girl shrugged, not exactly knowing how to explain how she felt. "I... It just kinda freaks me out, you know?"

"Did you have someone in your Maze you could do it with?"

Taken aback at the accuracy of her wild guess, Rachel whipped her attention back up to the other girl in front of her. "...What?"

Teresa bit her lip, before nodding. "The telepathy thing. Could you do it with one of your old friends, too?"

Rachel hesitated, before nodding very slowly, still surprised at how Teresa could know such things. It wasn't mind-reading as well, was it?

"I figured. Because of me and Thomas. Maybe there's two kids in each Maze who can. Or... I guess, three, in this case, now that you're here too." Teresa picked at some of the gangly grass that sprouted next to her knee. She began ripping it absentmindedly, just like Thomas had done with his frayed ends when he and she had been talking earlier.

Rachel nodded, casting her gaze over to a little divot in the dirt wall, zoning out for a moment. "... Yeah. My best friend... I lost him now, but my best friend and I could talk like that to each other. Aris, that was his name. He was the one I was closest to back there." Her voice wavered as she spoke, the girl still very upset over losing all of her only companions in this dumb, cruel world.

Teresa stopped her grass-tearing, looking at Rachel now. "He...? I thought your maze was supposed to be only girls."

"Everyone thought this Maze was supposed to be only guys," the dark-skinned girl retorted without missing a beat, scooping up a rock and fumbling with it between her fingers in boredom. "And yet here the two of us are."

Grunting in agreement, Teresa looked across the Glade. "I suppose you're right," she concluded, before standing as she saw Thomas and Gally crossing towards them in the torchlight. The sun had set, and it was time for the former's imprisonment sentence to begin. "I should get going," Teresa mentioned, wiping her palms on her pants before looking at Rachel one last time.

"Yeah, get away from Gally while you can," the Icer mused, a smirk on her face. "Thanks for keeping me from total solitude in here."

The freckled girl smiled back for a moment, before heeding Rachel's advice and hustling off before Gally could approach her. The conversation had answered a few of her questions, but mostly only opened a lot more. Why was she here? Why were the three of them specifically picked to be the odd ones out? Why were they all in a maze? What happened to the rest of Rachel's group when they escaped? Why only her, to be sent here?

Pulling up the sleeve of her shirt, Teresa looked down at her bicep, still in confusion. It was something she'd noticed a few hours ago, when she was on top of the lookout tower alone, throwing rocks at the boys.

Why, of all things, did she have  **WCKD IS GOOD**  written on her arm?


	9. Young and Vulnerable

 

            "Hey, what is your problem with me?" Thomas glanced up at Gally, who was a solid four or five inches taller than him. They crossed over to the pit as the sky darkened rapidly, already almost full-on night even though the sun had just finished setting. Gally's torch swayed with his gait, the Builder not hesitant to explain his reasoning for having a distaste in all the recent Greenies.

"Everything started going wrong the minute you showed up," Gally began, in a half explanatory, half accusing tone. "First Ben, then Alby... And now the girls." None of it had happened before Thomas's arrival, and seeing as Gally just wanted to keep things as they'd always been, it was understandable that he would be upset. But there was nothing Thomas had done that directly caused any of those things, just coincidence he'd been involved in them. "Both of the girls. You come back from your little joyride in the Maze with one you found, and everyone saw that the other one recognized you." Gally held out his hand, making a point as they stopped just in front of the pit. "And I'm betting," he jabbed his forefinger into Thomas's chest intimidatingly, narrowing his eyes at the other boy. "That you know who  _she_  is."

Gally nodded in affirmation at his own statement, satisfied with the silence as Thomas didn't quip back. He leaned over, stabbing the torch into the soft soil. "Hey, She-enie. How's your fist holding up?" Gally taunted Rachel, but she merely stared back at him with a blank expression. "Try anything and I'll personally see to your banishment," the male threatened, untying the door to the cell so Thomas could get in. To his pleasure, Rachel didn't move a muscle while the door was open, and Thomas cooperatively hopped inside, thanks to the fact it ultimately had been Newt's decision to put him there. The Glader with seniority shut the door once more, beginning to secure it when Thomas's annoying voice piped into his ears.

"Gally," the Greenie began, grabbing one of the bars and staring up at the boy he was addressing with squinted eyes. "...You know we can't stay here forever... Right?"

The Builder slowed his tying down, making eye contact with Thomas as he finished off the knot. Gally glared at him for a moment, as if to say  _"Don't tell me what I can and can't do"_ , before seizing the torch and storming away, leaving Thomas and Rachel in the darkness alone.

Thomas turned, his eyes not yet adjusted to the lack of light, so he couldn't see Rachel. She seemed to have noticed, or probably been thinking the same thing, because her voice cut through the silence. "I'll sleep on the left half, I'm in the back now." He could hear shuffling, before feeling a hand on his shoulder and tensing up, startled. "Relax," Rachel instructed, the eye roll evident in her voice. "I was just reaching over because I didn't know where you were." She patted his shoulder twice, before slumping down against the wall she'd said she would. "Get comfy, and welcome to hell."

 

As the hours passed, Rachel and Thomas had nothing to do besides talk, and so that's what they did. "We had this giant bonfire," he told her, amazed at how long ago that had felt like, even though it was only a few nights prior. "Gally makes this dis-gus-ting moonshine, burns your throat like you've gone to hell and back. Nasty stuff." Thomas ran a hand through his hair, the tips of his shoes touching hers as they sat against opposite walls of the pit. "But I remembered my name, that night. Gally whooped my ass and suddenly I remembered."

Rachel giggled at this, having grown more comfortable around Thomas the longer they spent together. "God, you sound like Aris now," she shook her head a little, before starting her own story. "When he came up, the girls  _hated_  him, they wanted to throw him to the Shades as bait. I was the only one who stuck up for him, and when the other girls finally accepted him as one of us, Ximena freaking nailed him square in the cheek." She laughed, finding the story funny now, even though it hadn't been at the time. "And then he remembered his name. She always said that was the fastest way to remember. Guess she was right after all." Rachel smiled at the memory of the other Icers, glad she could tell stories like this, because it made her feel like they were still right there with her.

"Who's Ximena?" Thomas asked, interested in learning how her social structure had worked. Rachel tossed a rock into the air and then caught it again, letting out a small sigh as the conversation turned somber.

"Who  _was_  she, you mean." The girl clarified, speaking softer now. "She was our leader. Been there the longest, first girl up in the box, knew the most about the Spring and the Maze. Oldest crackface outta all of us." Rachel bit her lip, remembering the memorial they'd carved in the ice on the wall for Ximena when she'd passed. "... A Shade killed her before we could escape. She deserved to get out."

Thomas looked down at his lap, nodding slowly as she spoke. "I'm sorry to hear that," he eventually offered, consoling Rachel. She just nodded, muttering how it was okay, and that there was nothing that they could've done about it anyways. "She sounds like Alby," he eventually said, looking up and making eye contact with the girl. "He's our leader, been here the longest, just like Ximena was for you."

Rachel knit her eyebrows, staring at Thomas in confusion. "I thought Newt was your leader?"

"He's second in command," the boy corrected, and before she could ask, started explaining why he was in charge now. "Alby got stung out in the Maze, and he's been writhing in bed ever since. Not speaking, not really conscious, just... There. We call it The Changing. Whatever was in your syringe really seemed to help, though. He's still not awake, but he's at least resting peacefully now."

Rachel nodded, glad that at least it sounded like he was doing better. She couldn't help Ximena, but maybe, just maybe, she could help  _his_  Ximena.

"That's good to hear," she mumbled, before trailing off in thought. Every once in a while, since he'd joined her, a silence would settle over the two of them. At first they were uncomfortable, but as they became more friendly with each other, the quiet spells weren't awkward anymore. It was nice to just have another person sitting nearby, just to keep themselves company.

This one lasted longer than the others, Thomas even hearing Rachel shift around to lay down, so he stayed as silent as he could in attempt to refrain from disturbing her if she was asleep. He had the feeling neither of them would sleep very well tonight, thanks to the cold, hard, packed dirt beneath them. And after the day Rachel had had, she deserved a good night's rest. Thomas sat against the back wall, across from her, thinking to himself before he would try to sleep as well.

After about half an hour had passed, Thomas holding Teresa's note in his hand and squinting to barely make out the  **She's the last one ever**  he knew was scribbled on it. He was lost in his thoughts, his attempts to figure out what this all meant, when he saw a light coming closer, headed for the pit. "Who's there?" The boy called out defensively, hastily folding up the note and shoving it in his back pocket to hide it.

The light came closer, revealing Chuck's chubby face, with his eyebrows raised. "It's just me," the younger kid said with a shake of his head, setting down the lantern he'd been carrying and sitting beside it.

Thomas visibly relaxed, letting out a breath that he didn't know he'd been holding. "Sorry, Chuck," he said quieter now, remembering that Rachel was in here too.

"Here," the curly haired boy said, handing a metal water bottle and something folded in a handkerchief through the openings in the pit's door. "You'll run better on a full stomach."

The older boy took the two things and sat down with them, ravenously opening the cloth and ripping apart a piece of the bread-like wafer inside. He stuffed a wad into his mouth, not realizing how starving he'd been from not getting a dinner after the long day he'd had. "Thanks, Chuck." The younger boy wasn't supposed to be bringing either of them food, yet he'd snuck it over here anyways, and Thomas was grateful.

"How's the girl?" Chuck asked, staring in Rachel's direction.

Thomas looked over, and hesitated, before answering quietly. "I think she's asleep." He tore off another piece and nearly inhaled the food, before taking a swig of the water. "She's smart, she says she remembers the way out. She could be the key to us getting out of here."

Chuck nodded, having lost his fascination with the Rachel if she wasn't moving or talking. Instead, he mulled over something small and wooden in his hands, skimming his fingers over its features and letting out a small sigh.

"Whatcha got there?" Thomas asked, taking a pause from the food for once and staring up at the younger boy, his interest piqued.

Chuck looked around, to make sure no one else was watching, as he held the small totem up to one of the gaps for Thomas to see. It was a little wooden man, with short hair and long arms that reached his knees. But it was incredibly detailed, with eyes and a nose and a smile, even. "Oh, that came out pretty damn good!" Thomas admired softly, standing up and getting close to the bars so he and Chuck could talk without disturbing Rachel. "What's that for?" He asked, excitement in his voice; he liked to make everything Chuck did sound interesting.

"It's for my parents," the young boy confessed, taking it back and holding it up to his own face for inspection, now.

"You remember your parents?" Thomas spoke in awe when he asked the question, in disbelief. How badly, he wished, that he could know what his parents looked like, or sounded like.

The chubbier boy shook his head a little, whispering "no," underneath his breath. "Well, I mean, I know I must have them." He shrugged his shoulders, flipping the totem over and over in his left hand as he spoke. "And, wherever they are, I'm sure they miss me, but... I can't miss them, because I don't remember them." Chuck spoke so detached from his words, as if they were such a casual thing to say. It hurt Thomas's heart, to hear such a young kid say such things.

The older boy just nodded a little, understanding, but still humbled by the reality of Chuck's statements. The 13 year old looked away from his big-brother-figure, glancing over at the East wall, where the doors were shut tightly. "What do you think you're gonna find out there tomorrow?"

He turned back to Thomas, waiting for an answer. An answer the latter didn't really have. "I... I don't know," Thomas admitted, shaking his head a little and pressing his lips together in thought. "Hey, but... There's a way out, Chuck, me and Minho are gonna find it." He nodded to affirm his own statement, not wanting the young kid to lose hope. Thomas looked over and down at Rachel, who was curled up against the left wall of the pit, just as she'd promised. "She found her way out once, that's proof. There's a way out. And this time we'll escape for real, okay?"

Chuck took a deep breath to himself, before handing the small totem through the door. "Here," he said, and Thomas took it in confusion.

"Chuck... Why would you give this to me?" He held the little wooden figure gently, staring up at the other boy with glassy eyes.

The young kid wouldn't meet Thomas's gaze at first, just staring blankly at the fire in his mason-jar lantern. He eventually shook his head, speaking up again. "I can't remember them anyway." Chuck looked over at the Greenie now, his lips twisted down a little in a hopeless frown. "But maybe it you find a way out... You can give it to them for me."

Thomas was silent, frozen in place as he searched for the right words, but Chuck was already getting up. "Anyways, get some sleep," he said, before heading off away from the pit, the glow from his fire slipping away from Thomas's face as he departed.

Unsatisfied with that answer, Thomas bit his lip for a second as he stared at the doll, before calling out. "Hey Chuck?" The older boy crossed his arms on the base of the door, before waving his hand to motion the kid back over. "C'mere."

The boy came back and crouched in front of the pit once more, curious as to what else Thomas wanted.

"Put out your hand," the newest Runner instructed, and Chuck complied. Reaching through the bars, Thomas cupped Chuck's extended hand, pressing the small wooden doll into his palm.

"I want you to give that to them yourself," he said stubbornly, not letting this boy give up hope just yet. "We're gonna get out of here," Thomas stated, not letting it seem like it was even a question. "All of us. Okay?" He nodded, hoping Chuck would mirror him and nod too, to show he understood. "I promise," he vowed, before patting the younger Glader's knuckles.

"Okay," Chuck agreed with a tiny nod, accepting his personal gift back. "Goodnight."

"Night, buddy." Thomas said as he let Chuck leave this time, brushing his hands over his chin in deep thought of what they needed to provide, what they had to find tomorrow.

The morale of the Gladers depended on it.

"That was sweet, what you did for him." Thomas heard a voice from behind him and jumped a little, whipping his head around to see Rachel staring back up at him.

"I thought you were asleep," he mentioned, not really knowing what else to say.

"I know. I heard. I was trying to, just could never get myself to actually fall under." She turned, laying on her back now, knees pointed in the air and her feet flat on the ground. Rachel draped her arms across her stomach, staring at the roof of the pit as she spoke. "He really looks up to you, you know. Your words meant a lot to him."

Thomas let out a long sigh, shaking his head. He wanted to believe her, but was too humble to think it was true. "He's just a kid," the boy explained, the moon only lighting up some of his profile for her to see. "He can't be more than 12, 13. He doesn't deserve to be stuck here."

Rachel was quiet for a minute, her tongue poking her cheek as she thought. "We used to have a little girl," she finally blurted out, looking over at Thomas. "Before I ever came there. Her name was Aly. She was young, just like Chuck is. Came up the month before I did." The girl sighed to herself, tucking a rogue curl behind her ear and out of her face. "Sweetest little girl, everyone loved her. But you're right, they don't deserve to be put through all this." Rachel sniffled, thinking about what Sara, one of the girls closest to Aly, used to tell her. "She was just a kid, Thomas," Rachel accidentally mirrored his words, wiping one of the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes. "She wandered out into the Maze, Thomas, it was all a game to her. She was just having the time of her life, but the Maze had changed overnight, now there was a wall where there didn't used to be one. She slid right into it, since ours was all ice after all, and there was nothing she could do to stop herself. Poor girl broke her nose, fell back, and cracked open her head, too. Sonya found her, she brought little Aly back as fast as she could to our two nurses, Fia and Hannah. They did all they could do, but you've seen the kind of medical supplies they send up here. The poor girl needed a surgeon: real, professional help. Hannah and Sofia really tried their hardest, but in the end of the day they just couldn't save her. She passed away in her sleep that night, and the girls carved her face in the wall as a memorial the next day, like they did for all the girls who they'd ever lost before." Rachel curled up into a ball, hugging her knees close to her chest. "It's awful, Thomas. I want to get out. I don't want to be at the hands of people who could see that happen to a little girl and not intervene, and I know they could've. Do you understand?"

He nodded, swallowing roughly at the Icer's story. "Yeah," Thomas said weakly, not knowing what else he really could. Before he managed think of anything, though, Rachel cut him off.

"Anyways. We should both get some sleep. It's going to be a big day tomorrow." She rolled over, facing away from her Group A equivalent, and settling in to try to sleep once more.

Thomas laid down as well, staring up at nothing in particular as he thought about what the girl had just opened up to him. After a few minutes of only their breathing filling the air, Thomas quietly spoke up.

"Hey Rachel?"

She didn't move at all; for a second Thomas thought she was already asleep. But then he heard her, a timid, soft "yeah?"

"You're gonna escape. Actually escape this time."

The girl grunted a little, a sort of squashed hope kind of grunt.

"Yeah. G'Night, Thomas."

He was quiet for a moment, before whispering back. "'Night, Rachel."


	10. Sound Sleeping

            It was the first day after Ximena passed. The first day they had to start anew.

And it was all Aris's fault.

That's how he felt, at least. Guilt was eating away at his insides, souring his appetite, making him restless throughout the night and unable to get even the slightest wink of sleep. Ximena was dead, Rachel was in pain, the Icers didn't escape—again. And it was all because of him.

Rolling over for the 487th time, Aris squirmed a bit and sat up, letting a huff fall from his lips as he stared at the small kindling of a fire. It was still burning in a controlled way, to keep the hut they all slept in somewhat warm during the harsh night temperatures. If he thought it was cold during the day, oh boy, it was about 10x worse after the sun disappeared behind the massive ice walls.

The boy looked over to his left, seeing Rachel sound asleep on the cot that the other girls had set up for her. Everyone else rested in sleeping bags on the hardwood floor, scattered circularly around the tiny flames in the firepit. And then there was Aris, banished off to the corner, furthest from the girls and the warmth.

Balling his colorless fingers into loose fists in attempt to keep them from growing any number, the lanky boy blew into his hands, cherishing the brief moment of warmth that his own exhale provided. He drew his digits away and stared at them, disgusted with himself once more. These were the hands that betrayed him out there, the hands that were too weak to hold onto the stingingly frigid ice of the Maze walls, causing him and Rachel to go tumbling down to the cold, hard floor. Twisting her ankle. One of their best Runners out there, the only girl who'd ever stuck up for him, and he put her out of commission for at least a day. And it was a day they couldn't afford to lose, since the Shades were getting braver and braver with coming close to the Spring. They needed to get out, as soon as possible, or they'd all be dead.

Aris was ripped out of his self-wallowing by a cough reverberating through the was-silent room, denoting that someone else was awake. His head snapped up towards the source of the noise, and the first movement he saw was Rachel propping herself up slightly on her elbows. She was still stifling the tickle in her throat, clearing it a few times in attempt to not wake any of the other girls, when she felt the pair of eyes on her. The girl turned and looked at Aris, before an inkling of a smile spread across her lips.

How, after all he'd done, could she still beam at him? He had no clue, but even despite the fact it was the middle of the night, he could've sworn her smile lit up the entire Spring.

_What are you doing awake, Blondie?_

The curly haired girl spoke in his mind telepathically: it was a gift that only the two of them shared for some reason. And while Aris's hair was brown, "blondie" was the term the Icers used to refer to the newest member. That much he'd picked up so far.

 _Can't sleep. I'm so sorry, again, for what happened._  His facial expression was softened, the boy pressing his lips together in a thin line as shame washed over him for the millionth time.

To his surprise, Rachel just rolled her eyes from across the room, stiffly doing her best to sit up as she faced him more.  _You know, you don't need to dote on me._  The second newest Icer shook her head as if to prove her point, crossing her arms across her chest.  _This isn't your fault. You actually broke my fall, you big pile of klank._

The girl smiled for the second time, in amusement at her own words. They made him feel a lot better about himself, actually: there was just something with the way she said it that filled him with warmth and coziness, like it really was okay.

 _You awake for a while?_  She asked him when his gaze was casted down to his own lap, bringing him away from his thoughts and focusing his attention on her once more.

He nodded, a little too eagerly, before shrugging his shoulders in attempt to play it off.  _Haven't slept at all, don't expect to anytime soon._

Rachel gestured down to her bad leg hanging off the edge of her cot, before jutting her chin out at Aris.  _You think you could help a girl out and help me over to the fire?_

The skinny boy's lips traced the smallest hint of a smile, his tooth gap showing just ever so slightly as he hoisted himself to his feet and slipped as quietly as he could over to where Rachel was sitting. She held out her arms to be pulled to her feet and supported, but Aris misread her body language in the dim light. He squatted a little, hooking one of her arms over his shoulders as he snaked one of his arms beneath her knees, the other supporting her back as he lifted the girl and carried her like a child. Rachel didn't protest as he stood, snatching one of her blankets on the way up and holding on to the boy for dear life after what Aris's muscles had proved that they couldn't do earlier. Luckily for the both of them, he managed not to drop her, carrying Rachel over to the sad pile of embers and setting her down gingerly just in front of them.

"Thanks," she whispered, out loud, letting go of her clinging grip to his gray sweater as she crossed her legs and sat up on her own. Aris plopped himself down just beside her, nodding in acknowledgement as Rachel grabbed a black metal stick and began poking at the fire.

She was a natural pyro, he noticed, as within 30 seconds of the girl's blowing on the logs and jabbing at them with the iron, the flames were blazing much higher. She had really brought them back to life. Rachel set down the poker and pulled on the blanket she'd brought over with her, even going so far as to holding her arm out in Aris's direction, offering for him to share. She looked like a Shade, extending its wing. The boy gratefully draped it across the back of his shoulders as well, scooting in to make sure no icy drafts between them stole the warmth that the blanket provided.

"There's no way they're gonna let me back out into the Maze tomorrow," he spoke softly, a hint of dejection in his voice as he stared at the fire's flickering motions. Rachel tore her own gaze away from it to look over at him, an eyebrow raised and smirk across her lips.

"Guess we're gonna be stuck here together." She spoke with a sense of authority, her statement standing on its own. Aris shrugged a little, never bothering to meet her eyes as he still felt overwhelmingly responsible for all wrong that had happened thus far.

Rachel let out a chaste and disappointed sigh, before bumping her shoulder into his to grab the male's attention. "You know, if we ARE going to be stuck together, can you at least drop the sad sack routine and let the past be the past?"

Aris stared at her, his mouth agape as he fumbled for an answer. Finally, he closed it, letting out a soft grunt as he dipped his head down in a tiny nod.

"I can."

He let a pause take hold over their conversation, before continuing. His mind was racing,  determination spreading across his features, knitting his eyebrows down and biting his lower lip as he decided to make their internment into something productive. "But we're going to make ourselves useful, at least. Tomorrow, we start studying the maps. Deal?"

The shorter girl was zoned out, staring blankly at the fire, almost in a trance. Eventually, she responded, clearing her throat again before patting Aris's right thigh. "Deal, Blondie." Switching to mental conversation, the girl twitched her nose, looking up at him now.  _But I think we'd both better get some sleep, first._ Rachel involuntarily shuddered as a breeze hit her skin, a chill coursing through her nerves and causing her to shiver. Aris immediately wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer for warmth, and she accepted it. Rachel even found herself instinctively resting her head against him. She let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding, just grateful that none of the other girls were awake to see her all bundled up with a boy.

 _You rest. I'll make sure your fire over here doesn't get too out of control._  Aris's image appeared in her mind, the girl perfectly able to picture him despite the fact her eyes had drooped shut. She smiled just a little, burying her nose in a crook of his slate gray sweatshirt, shielding it from the cold as things started to grow hazy.  
  


A loud and eerie moaning of a Griever tore Rachel away from her blissful state, jostling her out of her slumber for a rude awakening back to reality. Thomas sat in the corner of the pit, already awake, and jittering in anxiousness to be free from the imprisonment and start the day already. It was just barely light out, as the sun was coming up, but not quite peeking over the walls yet. "Morning, Rachel," he spoke quietly, causing the girl to roughly rub her eyes to make sure she was actually up.

A memory. She'd dreamt her first, real memory. And even that was of only a few days prior, nothing from before the Maze.

Still, she missed it.

"Morning," the Icer mumbled back groggily, quick to sit up and stretch a little, shaking off any sleep that still laid claim to her.

Hasty footsteps thundered closer to the pit before abruptly stopping, a figure crouching in front of the door and casting a shadow down onto the two teenagers within it. "Big day, Greenie," Minho's mildly taunting voice spilled down and into Rachel's ears, and he was clearly talking to Thomas. "You sure you don't wanna sit this one out?" The older boy had a klunk-eating grin spread across his face, well-knowing the answer.

"Come on, man," Thomas half-laughed, shaking his head as he wrung out his wrists to fidget. "Get me out of here."

Minho leaned forward and nimbly untied the knot, giving Rachel just enough time to process what was actually going on here. "Hey!" She scrambled to her feet and stumbled a bit: she could've sworn it was the same brief shooting pain she had from twisting her ankle in her dream. Recovering quickly, as she'd healed since then, the girl positioned herself between the two boys to stall, facing the Keeper outside of the pit. "I'm coming too."

"Oh, no, you're not." Minho was quick to retort, raising his eyebrow at the girl's feisty demand. "Runners are the only ones allowed to leave the Glade. Alby's rules."

Rachel balled her hands into fists, taken aback. "Are you kidding? I know the way OUT, Minho! In case you forgot, I already escaped the Maze once! I ain't no Blondie!"

Confused, the Asian boy crossed his arms over his chest. "I never shucking said you were blonde, she-enie. I have eyes, you know. I can see clear as day that your hair's black. I'm talking about the fact you're gonna stay right here, safe in the Glade until Newt decides what action to take with you."

The heel of the Icer's palm hit her forehead, Rachel letting out a groan in frustration as they had a miscommunication. "Whatever, ignore the blonde thing. I'm talking about the fact that I can help you, you dumb stick. I remember how I escaped."

Minho opened his mouth to sling another sassy comeback her way, but Thomas interjected, stepping out from behind her as he joined an active role in the conversation. "I think she's got a point, Minho." He paused, staring up at his Keeper with a stony look. "She remembers- she could be the key to getting us the hell outta here. It's worth a shot."

The older boy stood, chewing the inside of his cheek, unpleased but begrudgingly giving in. When no one moved, he shook his head incredulously, raising his eyebrows in almost a belittling manner.

"Well?? What are you two shanks waiting for? Christmas?"

And with that, Thomas and Rachel scurried out to their freedom, following Minho to the Map Room to get suited up.


	11. A Changed Maze

 

            Minho sifted through some things in the sloppy little shack that was the Map Room, lingering in hesitation as he mulled over an item before chest-passing it in Thomas's direction. The newer boy caught it with a quiet "oof" as it collided with his breastbone, pulling the item away from himself to inspect it as well. His lips fell into a small "oh," silence settling as he made eye contact with Minho. "This..."

"Was Ben's." The stockier of the two males answered stoically, but Thomas could see how his features grew just the tiniest bit more crestfallen as he discussed his old running partner. "We don't have the resources to afford not reusing perfectly good equipment. Put it on- should fit you just fine."

 ** _Was_** _Ben's,_  Rachel mentally repeated, swallowing thickly at the thought as Thomas did as he was instructed. She didn't know who this Ben was, or his significance in the Glade's social structure, but she knew the pain attached to losing a friend to the Maze. All the more reason she had to lead these guys out.

"You doing alright over there, she-enie? Having second thoughts?"

Minho's taunts snapped the girl back to reality, her head whipping up to meet his gaze. She clenched her jaw, giving him a stony look to convey that she was tough enough and determined to do this. "I'm fine," Rachel blurted out, resting one hand on her hip and the other on the hilt of one of the knives that hung in a sheath off of her belt. "And don't need equipment. I've got quite a bit on me, already. I'll be alright."

The Asian boy hooked his fingers on his own harness and gave the smallest shrug, the corners of his lips quirking up into a miniature smile. "Suit yourself," he stated, before clearing his throat and flicking his attention back to Thomas as well. "We're burning daylight. Grab a canteen, fill it, and let's go." Minho pivoted, snatching a water bottle off the wall and heading out of the door hastily, expecting the two newbies to do the same. He showed them how to fill the bottles in the creek just out back of the Map Room: not the best taste, but far better than suffering dehydration.

"A good look for you." All three stood immediately, practically in sync, upon hearing a new voice from behind them. Gazing her eyes over the figure, Rachel quickly assessed that it was Teresa, and that she was talking to Thomas and Thomas only. It wasn't rude or anything, the two of them were just closer than anyone else, and that was very clear just by sight alone. Rachel smiled a little to herself, screwing the lid onto her water as Thomas stepped forward to talk to the pale girl. They reminded Rachel of Aris and herself.

The Icer didn't hear what Thomas said to Teresa, brought back from her reminiscing by Minho's snappy voice cutting through the air. "You two need a minute?"

Thomas parted from the other girl, returning to Rachel and Minho shortly. Then, they headed towards the creaking and crumbling East Door, which was growing more and more cavernous and gaping as the seconds passed.

All three of them stumbled to a stop in front of it, watching the doors open for the day. They all knew what lie ahead of them. Today, they found a way out. They had to.

Each of the teens took a heavy inhale, and each for their own reasons. For Thomas, it was his first real day running and exploring the Maze, without Grievers breathing down his neck. For Rachel, she was going  _back_  into the Maze, back where she'd just escaped from. And for Minho, it was just the start of a new day.

"You two, follow me," Rachel spoke, not bothering to look at the boys as her confidence swelled. This was it. If they were getting out of here, she had to be calling the shots. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Minho open his mouth to make some quip about her being in charge, but for once, he bit his lip and kept it reserved. That  _was_  the reason he was even allowing her out there, after all. To follow her out.

Thomas nodded curtly, looking over at her before Minho's voice rang in the air.

"LET'S GO!"

The Keeper of the Runners took off into the Maze at a sprint, Rachel not even half a second behind him, the two leaving Thomas in the dust. Grinding his teeth a little, Thomas took a short but deep breath, before breaking out into his fastest run after them, diving head-first into the Maze once and for all.

"This way!"

Although Rachel's start to running was not the smoothest, as she was in a much better skating shape than sprinting shape, the girl managed to find a rhythm and maintain it well enough to hold her own with the two boys. She was even slightly ahead of them, leading the way to The Cliff as she'd navigated countless times in her own Maze. It was slightly disorienting, since the trip was much longer on foot than it was on skates, but she estimated they were just about halfway there. Hooking a right around the next corner, the girl let out a long exhale with her strides, lungs burning within her. The heat was ungodly awful, too: she was used to numb and frostbitten fingertips, not sweating buckets and wiping her forehead every 3 seconds.

"We almost there?" Thomas called out from the back of the pack, his cheeks red from exertion. Rachel stole a glance back to see how he was doing, wicking another bead of sweat from her face.

She slowed down and the boys did the same, catching her breath at the walking gait as she took a sip of the water she'd brought. "We're getting there. Another like, 15 minutes, alright? We aren't too far. But we can walk for a minute or two." Rachel puffed out a hefty exhale, trying to wet her dry mouth but also not trying to drink too much and make herself nauseous when she ran again later. Thomas was heaving a few breaths as well, but by no means gasping for air. Minho looked as at peace as if he'd just woken up from a nap.

After another right and following down a lengthy straightaway, Rachel led them around another corner and raised her eyebrow. "Ready?"

The girl didn't really wait for an answer, already starting to jog, which led to them picking up speed once more. A few minutes of silence passed as they just ran- the only sounds filling their ears being the bugs buzzing and each other's quiet grunts every once in a while. "Almost there!!" Rachel called out excitedly, picking up the pace a little as adrenaline flooded her veins. This was it. The Cliff. The Hole. The Escape. All she had to do was show the boys that she was right, prove herself some credibility. Get out, again. For real this time.

A wide grin sprawled across her lips as she saw it ahead: the turn to the Cliff. In 30 seconds she'd be able to see the dropoff; 20 seconds, 10.

"Here!" Rachel yelled in utter jubilance, practically jumping as she skimmed her hand along the wall and used her momentum to fling herself around the last corner. Her breathing was rapid and full of hope, heart beating wildly out of her ribcage-

-and falling to the ground beneath her, crumpling to dust.

A dead end.

How could it be a dead end? The girl skid to a stop the moment she rounded the corner, looking up with the biggest doe eyes at the massive ivy wall staring back at her. It looked tauntingly old- like it had been there forever, and there was never an opening to begin with. Her facial features had all fallen into disbelief, her mouth agape and still puffing choppy breaths from the rush. Only now they were dangerously dipping towards the possibility of hyperventilation.

"No..."

Rachel muttered under her breath, frozen as Minho and Thomas stumbled upon the same obvious conclusion. This was no escape. This was no way out.

Rachel was wrong.

"This... This can't be, there's a cliff here, th-there never was a wall, not even with all the shifting each night, a wall never closed over here..." Her limbs were twitching and shaking, partly from being overworked and partly from the fear settling in. The fear that she would never escape. The fear that she was lost out in the Maze. The fear of never seeing her friends again.

Instinctively, she began scratching her bicep, feeling the words written there itch and crawl on her skin. They did this to her. WCKD was not good. WCKD was bad.

"Let's follow our plan, then," Minho offered, his mind already whirring on his original idea once more. "About the Grievers coming from the outer sections. We won't get anything done just standing here."

Rachel shook her head slightly, her eyes darting between the boys and the ivy. "No, guys, this IS the way out, I swear, I wasn't lying, I..."

Thomas placed a hand on her shoulder, effectively shutting her up. "Clearly something went wrong, yeah? Lost in translation. But let's check out Minho's plan, now, it's only fair. He let you come in here, followed you out here. He deserves to be heard out too."

She knew that wasn't the way out. But after this little performance, Rachel couldn't very much say otherwise. Looking back at the looming barrier where The Cliff should've been, one last time, the girl sputtered out a shaky breath and nodded, following the Gladers out of its view and as far away as she could get. She ran with them, but now trailed behind instead of leading, about 10 feet between her and the two boys weaving around turns and down corridors.  _Aris...?_  Rachel tried, but deep down, she knew it was hopeless. He couldn't hear her. Nonetheless, she felt like he was the only one she could talk to, the only one who would fully understand. He always did.  _The Cliff, it's... gone. The Hole, everything. I don't know what happened... I don't know why it was closed off... I just want to get out of here. To get back to you guys. You, Harriet, Sonya, Miyoko... I miss you._

No response. Of course there wasn't. He wasn't there.

The three ran until they found themselves in a much wider pathway, a giant wall in front of them with a huge red  ** _5_**  plastered onto it. "This is the inner ring!" Minho explained, cutting a sharp right to run parallel to the towering concrete bearing down at them. "This way!"

Thomas dropped back until he was running next to Rachel, his eyes glued to the male in front of them. "You alright?"

Rachel licked her lips and wiped her forehead again. She liked Thomas- he always seemed to pick up on the small things about her. "I'm fine," she promised, never looking over at him either. "Just thinking. Can't believe The Cliff wasn't there, is all."

"Maybe we made a wrong turn or something," he consoled, speaking almost off-handedly. "I wouldn't beat yourself up over it, okay?" And with that, he stepped up the pace, catching up to Minho's heels as they passed a  ** _6_**.

 _Maybe we made a wrong turn,_  she repeated to herself, fire blazing behind her eyes as determination returned. Rachel caught herself up to the boys, a new life breathed into her as they all slowed down in front of a giant opening.

 ** _7_**.

"That's strange," Minho commented, finally seeming almost out of breath.

"What?" Rachel asked, piping up for the first time since they'd switched to Plan B.

The Keeper looked at her, true bewilderment on his face as he answered, echoing ominously into the opening before them. "Seven's not supposed to be open for another week."

They walked forward, into the outer section, where tall metal blades jutted out of the ground in a geometric pattern. Their exasperated breaths all mingled in wonder and confusion and curiosity, as Thomas broke the silence and summed just about everything up for them.

"What the hell is this place?"


End file.
